


Road To The Aisles

by Isitgintimeyet



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, the ties that bind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-10-11 21:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 54,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20553140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isitgintimeyet/pseuds/Isitgintimeyet
Summary: So, legal battle won, the hard work begins. In a year full of changes, Jamie and Claire must learn how to be parents, juggle work, friends and family, and deal with an ex and her mother. Not forgetting to fit in their own special ‘grown-up’ time…… oh, and plan a wedding, of course.





	1. An Awaited Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts just after the legal agreement reached in Ned Gowan’s office and before the final scene of The Ties That Bind. It will be clear where the two stories merge. It is a continuation and so will make more sense if you’ve read The Ties That Bind first.
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve and @wickedgoodbooks.
> 
> I aim to post every weekend, if possible. Hope you enjoy...

_“See how he clings to my finger. I’m sure he knows me already. He cries when the nurse takes him away. Oh Marilla, do you think - you don’t think, do you - that his hair is going to be red?”_

L.M. Montgomery, _Anne’s House of Dreams_

Geillis looked around the small tea room with satisfaction.

“Thank god there are still places like this. I went tae a place last week… it had all the atmosphere of an aircraft hanger, but wi’ these stupid wee chairs, like a school. And the waiters, sae fuckin’ pretentious.”

She sipped her mug of tea with relish. “All I asked fer was a mug of tea and a jam doughnut. The wee fella looked at me like I was pond scum and told me in his fake Morningside accent, that they only served ‘high end teas’... or some such shite. Nae milk or sugar, and the matcha green tea doughnut looked like it was growing penicillin.” 

She bit into her scone. “Anyway,” she spoke through a mouthful of crumbs. “I’m sorry. That’s enough of ma blather, tell me exactly what happened wi’ the lawyer yesterday.”

Claire smiled at her friend. “It was as good as we hoped. The lawyer John recommended was brilliant. Jamie got everything he asked for. Geneva didn’t have a leg to stand on. Shared custody of William. So Jamie will have William every Sunday evening until Tuesday, well, until morning drop off at childcare, I suppose. And then alternate weekends, from Friday evening. It’s a bit hazy at the moment, until William’s a bit older and in nursery.”

“But how do ye feel, Claire? This has all been about Jamie and the baby. What about ye? I mean this is pretty huge, is it no’? Ye’re gonna be a step-mother. That’s a forever thing. And ye’re always goin’ tae have tae deal wi’ Geneva… and her mother.” The look on Geillis’s face clearly showed her opinion of Geneva and Louisa Dunsany.

“To be honest, G, it’s only just hitting me.” Claire picked up her teaspoon and started methodically stirring her tea, clockwise then anti-clockwise, as she spoke. “Last night, after all the excitement, I lay in bed while Jamie was asleep, just thinking about it all. I mean I’ve never actually met William yet. I know that’s hardly surprising… Geneva didn’t even let Jamie see him for weeks. And now I’m going to be a big part of his life.”

She put the spoon down. “It’s like… like… being on an express train. I had a choice, when Jamie first told me. I chose to stay, to get on the train and to deal with all this. And I don’t regret it, any of it. And then with all the problems with Geneva and her mother and the lawyers, well, I didn’t have time to think about it. All our energy was on sorting that mess out. And now the train has slowed, we’ve reached the destination and I’m thinking ‘oh shit, what do I do now that I’m here?’”

“Ye ken fine what tae do. Ye’re a doctor, ye can cope.”

Claire smiled at her friend’s words of encouragement. “Practically, I know I can cope. It’s not that. What if… what if… William doesn’t like me? What will I do? And what will Jamie do?”

Geillis got up from her chair and rushed to Claire’s side of the table. She wrapped her arms tightly around her friend and kissed her loudly on the cheek. “Hush, there is nae way that William will no’ love ye. Ye are amazing… I ken that, Jamie kens that and that wee bairn will too.”

Returning to her seat, Geillis continued. “So, was there no big scene in the lawyer’s office? Did Geneva no’ go after yer blood? I can’t imagine she’d be too pleased seeing that ring on yer finger.”

Claire held her hand out to admire the diamond solitaire once more before replying. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no scene. I did, however, have to put Louisa right on a couple of things.”

“Ooh, such as?”

“That she had no right to question me about my behaviour, I owed her no explanations. And what I thought about their little game-playing.”

“Ok, but more importantly, does she ken ye’re engaged? Did she see the ring?”

“I didn’t actually mention it, but I may have wafted it in her general direction a couple of times.”

Geillis laughed. “Fuckin’ brilliant. I think that’s game, set and match tae ye, Claire. Ye’ve won.”

*****************

Claire stood at the hob, stirring the Ragù sauce, a pan of water bubbling next to it, ready for the pasta to be cooked as soon as Jamie came home. She wiped her hands on her apron before taking a sip of her wine. 

In the previous weeks, starting from the day of William’s birth, she had tried to increase her cooking repertoire and had found it both therapeutic and incredibly enjoyable. To her surprise, she was now the proud owner of not only an apron, but also a Mezzaluna and a mortar and pestle. Following recipes appealed to her logical mind and the very act of cooking gave her time to think and contemplate.

She thought about her chat with Geillis. It really didn’t feel like she’d ‘won.’ It wasn’t a competition in her eyes (although Geneva had obviously thought otherwise), but the gateway to a new part of her life. ‘Stepmother’ - Claire inwardly shuddered at the very word, with its evil fairytale connotations. She just wanted to love William, for all their sakes, and hope that he would come to love her as well.

Claire moved to the fridge as she heard the front door and poured Jamie a glass of chilled white wine. The image of a Stepford wife briefly came into her mind but she laughed it away. No Stepford wife would ever have hair as messy as hers, nor willingly immerse their hands in the amount of blood and gore that she did. She just had to remember that, in addition to their new roles as Da and Stepmum, they were still Jamie and Claire, they were still the same people.

Jamie came into the kitchen. Having finally got to spend time with his son, he was still clearly bursting with excitement. He came up behind Claire, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzled the back of her neck.

“Mmm, Sassenach, ye smell of garlic and basil.”

She turned in his arms and brought hers around his neck. Bringing her head to rest on his chest, she sniffed then pulled away. “And you, James Fraser, smell of… baby spit up.”

Jamie grinned. “Aye, weel, there may have been a wee bit of that after I fed him.”

“You fed him? With a bottle?” Claire spoke without thinking.

Jamie chuckled.

“Nah, with one of ma fully functioning man breasts… Aye, with a bottle. Geneva knows he’s goin’ tae have tae have the bottle when we… I…” Jamie rapidly corrected himself. “When I look after him here. And I changed his nappy. First nappy ever.”

"I can't believe you've never changed a nappy. Not even your nephew's?"

"Nah, I've always been more on the fun uncle side of things, ye ken. And before, with William, it took all ma effort tae get Geneva tae let me hold the bairn, never mind actually tend tae him."

“So, how did you find the nappy change?”

“Fer a wee bairn that’s only fed on milk, it was surprisingly… gross. It gets everywhere.”

Claire instinctively took a step back.

“Nah,” he paused and sniffed before confirming. “No’ on me. But the wee laddie drew his feet right up in tae it.”

Claire laughed. “You're supposed to hold his feet out of the way. Did Geneva not tell you?”

“Aye, I ken that now. But Geneva didna tell me or show me anything. She jes’ sat in the corner, watching every move. Like she was scoring me on ma performance. I tell ye, I canna wait until I can be with him and no’ have her peering over ma shoulder.” 

Claire passed Jamie his wineglass and turned back to the cooking. 

“Sassenach, let dinner wait a while. I need tae ask ye something. Will ye come intae the lounge?”

Claire turned the hob off as Jamie took her hand and led her into the living room. They sat together on the sofa. Claire sipped her wine and waited.

“Sassenach, I canna tell ye how it felt tae spend time with William today. He’s such a braw lad.” Jamie paused for a moment, reliving the day’s emotions. 

“Anyway, if ye’d like tae… would ye come with me tomorrow tae meet him?”

Claire’s stomach flipped. She took a larger sip of wine before answering.

“Jamie, you know I want to meet William, but tomorrow? Are you sure? I mean so soon. Geneva’s hardly even got used to the idea of sharing William. Have you asked her?”

“Aye, I asked her. She wasna happy about it, but what can she do? Ye’re a big part of ma life and will be a big part of William’s life too. If ye're willing ye can finally meet him."

“Of course I’d like to but...” Claire hesitated, unwilling to dampen Jamie's excitement at the meeting.

"Tell me, please. What's troubling ye? Are ye worried about Geneva? I willna leave ye, ye dinna even have tae speak tae her if that's a problem."

"It's not that. It’s just, well, this is pretty huge… life changing… and I am worried. Babies can be fussy creatures. What if he doesn’t like me? What if he won’t stop crying when he sees me? How will we cope?”

Jamie put his wineglass down. Claire reluctantly let him put hers on the table too. He tucked her curls behind her ear before stroking her cheek.

“Claire, I dinna think that will happen at all. But if it does, we will manage. William will grow tae like ye… tae love ye. Dinna worry about what might never happen. So, no pressure, do ye want tae meet him tomorrow?” 

Claire nodded.

Jamie continued. “The only thing is, Sassenach, Geneva doesna want ye in her home, so we’ve agreed, if ye’re willing, tae meet at Isobel’s house.”

“That’s fine. I have no wish to spoil the, no doubt, perfect ambience of her house.”

Jamie grinned. “Aye, somehow I dinna think her interior design is going tae survive much longer, not once William’s mobile. I’m so happy you’re going tae meet him, Sassenach. I canna wait fer tomorrow.”

***************  
Claire stood nervously waiting on the front door step. Jamie took her hand, entwined his fingers with hers and gently stroked her palm with his thumb. He looked at her, checking that she was ready. She nodded as Jamie knocked on Isobel’s door.

Isobel had obviously been waiting as the door opened almost immediately. She shepherded them into the hall. The sound of a baby crying came from another room.

Isobel shrugged. “I’m afraid William’s being a little bit unsettled today. Geneva was up several times in the night. But I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

They followed Isobel down the hall. Before she opened the door to the living room, she turned and spoke to Claire. 

“I’m so glad you’ve come to see him. Don’t worry, Mummy’s not here. I told her to go shopping. I’m not sure what you said to her, but she didn’t seem too keen to stick around and see you anyway. And I have reminded Geneva to be polite. Seriously, they’re more difficult to handle than my students! I’ll settle you and then go and put the kettle on for us.”

Isobel’s living room was bright, airy, and tastefully decorated. It was also filled with various baby paraphernalia. A changing mat lay on the floor next to a bag overflowing with toys, nappies and clothing. A baby gym was balanced precariously on a chair. William’s car seat was discarded on the sofa, a couple of muslin cloths draped over it.

Geneva sat in the midst of this, cradling a somewhat fretful baby. Isobel hurriedly moved the baby gym off the chair and indicated that Claire should sit.

Jamie stopped himself from rushing over to take William from Geneva as he stayed at Claire’s side.

“Hello, Geneva,” Jamie greeted Geneva formally. “I believe Williams’s being a wee bit tetchy today.”

Geneva looked over to Jamie and Claire. Despite the immaculate makeup, the lack of sleep was clearly evident on her face.

“That is an understatement.” There was no trace of friendliness or humour in her voice.

“Weel, have ye tried tae…”

“Spare me any misguided advice. He is fed and clean and dry… just not too happy. Here, take him. My arm’s gone to sleep.”

With a quick look to Claire, Jamie moved across to Geneva and took the baby from her arms.

Claire felt her chest tighten and tears fill her eyes as she watched Jamie, standing in the centre of the room holding William. She had grown accustomed to seeing him cuddling his nephew and baby niece, but to know this was Jamie’s son affected her more than she had realised.

Jamie looked directly at her and mouthed “You ok?”.

Claire nodded and blinked several times to clear her eyes.

“So, would ye like tae meet William?” Jamie asked, bending over and placing the baby in her arms.

Claire looked down into the red, creased face of Jamie’s son, a little whimpering sound now coming from him. She stroked his cheek gently. 

“Hello there, William,” she whispered.

“You need to be careful you don’t scratch him with your ring... And remember to make sure his head is supported.”

Jamie turned to Geneva, trying to remain calm at her intervention. “Claire kens all that. She is a doctor after all. She’s used tae dealing with bairns. She doesna need ye tae point that out, do ye, Claire?”

There was no response from Claire, as she focused solely on William, studying his features intently. He grew calm in her arms, quietening before giving a massive yawn and rubbing one small dimpled fist over his face.

The door opened and Isobel popped her head in. “Geneva, dear, can you come and give me a hand? I’m not sure if this baby monitor thing is working.”

She winked at Jamie as Geneva reluctantly made her way out of the room.

Jamie sat down on the floor at Claire’s feet, watching Claire’s face as she lowered her head to kiss William, now drifting happily off to sleep. Jamie leant his head against her knee.

“How do ye feel, Sassenach?”

Claire thought for a moment, lost for words. “Jamie, he’s lovely… just perfect. And I can see you in him... that chin… and that red hair. I still can’t believe he’s here and going to be part of our lives. How about you?”

“Every time I’ve been with William, even though that’s been grand there’s always been Geneva, with her games and her comments and her resentment… and her mother. This is the first time I can see how it will be, when William comes tae our house and it’s the three of us.”

William stirred for a moment before returning to his contented slumber.

“Yes, Jamie, the three of us… our family.”


	2. A Detailed Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to you all for the response to the first chapter. Glad you are enjoying this sequel. It's very gratifying  
Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou @happytoobserve and @wickedgoodbooks for the support.
> 
> Warning: Gets NSFW quite quickly

_“After all, perhaps dirt isn't really so unhealthy as one is brought up to believe.” _  
― Agatha Christie,_ Murder in Mesopotamia_

“Sassenach, I dinna ken why we have tae spend all day cleaning the house. Nobody will be looking fer bits of dust. It’s only ma family tomorrow and they will be more interested in the bairn.” 

Jamie got to his feet and wiped a hand across his forehead.

“And do ye think Murtagh will be sitting here tomorrow wondering if we’ve hoovered under this sofa?” He continued. “This verra heavy sofa… that ye made me move all by myself.”

“I just want it all to be right, Jamie. This is the first time that your dad, Murtagh, Jenny, Ian and the kids will have met William. It’s a momentous occasion. The least we can do is a spot of cleaning.”

Claire watched as Jamie gathered up the dusters and furniture polish. A perk of this necessary but uninspiring activity was Jamie’s chosen cleaning attire. While she herself was modestly dressed in old faded leggings and an extra large t-shirt of Jamie’s, he preferred to try to keep cool in very old running shorts, no longer in a suitable condition for public viewing, and a sleeveless t-shirt. 

Unaware of her scrutiny, he turned and stretched his arms above his head, his t-shirt riding up with the sudden movement. Beads of sweat glistened on the trail of hairs leading down into his shorts.

Claire thought that, with the housework finished, they could maybe…

Jamie interrupted her thinking. “I’ll jes’ go and finish up cleaning in the bathroom, aye?”

Not waiting for her response, he made for the stairs.

“I just cleaned that bloody bathroom…” Claire muttered under her breath as she stomped to the utility room to put away the cleaning kit. “Does he not think I’d do it to his liking? Well, he can clean that bloody bathroom himself from now on… and the toilet… or does he just have to inspect what I’ve done…”

She didn’t hear Jamie calling from upstairs at first as she clattered around the kitchen. Eventually he raised his voice enough.

“Sassenach, come and see what I’ve done.”

Claire climbed the stairs still complaining under her breath about Jamie’s need to clean her already spotless bathroom. “...And if he’s changed the direction of the toilet roll, there’ll be words...”

The bathroom was dominated by a large, white bathtub. A large white bathtub currently filling with bubbles and a very tall ginger Scot reclining at one end. Steam rose from the taps in the centre of the tub. Jamie leant forward and added some cold water.

“I thought you’d come up here to inspect my cleaning.” Claire grinned.

“Och no, ye’ve, weel, we’ve done a grand job with all that.” Jamie reached a hand out to Claire. “There’s jes’ a wee bit more cleaning up tae do. I kent I smelt awfa bad and I’m guessing ye smell the same. So I decided tae fix us a nice bath. Sassenach, will ye join me, or are ye going tae stand there stinking?”

Quickly, Claire stripped off her clothes and threw them at the laundry basket. Gingerly, she stepped into the bath, wincing slightly as the hot water stung her cold skin.

“Come sit down here and I’ll give ye a wash.”

As Claire bent over to settle between Jamie’s legs, her bottom momentarily passed close to his face. Automatically he felt himself becoming aroused… a fact which was not lost on Claire as she nestled in close to Jamie, her back resting against his chest.

“And I thought this was an innocent bath, James Fraser.”

“With a wet, naked lady in it… not so innocent at all, Sassenach.”

Claire sighed and relaxed against Jamie, stretching her legs in front and wiggling her toes through the bubbles.

“It’s so nice having a bath large enough to stretch out in.” She sighed.

“Aye, it’s a nice large tub, right enough. But I dinna think we’ll be able tae make love in here. At least, no’ without causing a tsunami tae wreck the bathroom. Still, let me wash ye.”

Jamie worked the soap into a lather and began to massage his soapy hands over Claire’s shoulders, gently running up and down her arm, his fingers tracing circles on her skin. She could feel his breath -- warm against her neck -- as his teeth lightly nipped her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. Any tension began to drift away.

Relaxing her head against Jamie’s shoulder, Claire closed her eyes and let her mind wander. Cocooned in the steamy lavender warmth of the bath, his fingers massaged her skin with a hypnotic rhythm. The only noises were their breathing and the random drip of a tap. She sighed, the sound oddly loud to her ears.

Jamie shifted as his hands left her arms. He chuckled as Claire gave a slight moan of disappointment and raised her head, the trance-like state broken.

“Dinna fash,” he whispered. “Jes’ after more soap.”

Swiftly his hands returned to her body, stroking across her shoulders and collarbone as she relaxed against his chest once more. Gradually, he moved down her body, his fingertips grazing her nipples with a featherlight touch. Claire sighed and instinctively ground her hips against Jamie, pressing deeper against his erection.

His hands continued on their downward journey, dipping under the water, pushing Claire’s thighs apart. She readily complied, positioning her legs on top of Jamie’s as he opened her up. The warm water and his fingers gently caressed her very centre.

Claire felt the longed for electricity begin to spark in her muscles, growing stronger with each stroke. But Jamie’s rhythm was not enough, she moved her hand to lie on top of his, guiding it, pushing it faster and faster as her climax built until it reached its zenith. Her hips bucked out of the water as her cry echoed off the tiled walls.

He kissed her neck as she relaxed back into him. They lay still for a moment.

“Best be getting out in a minute,” Jamie said

“But what about you?” 

Claire turned to face Jamie and knelt. He watched her breasts, the nipples just above the water and felt his groin twitch in response as she leant forward to touch him.

“I dinna think I can last,” he whispered.

“That’s fine,” Claire answered. “Don’t hold back, Jamie.”

Jamie watched as, under the water, Claire ran her finger from root to tip and back before cupping his balls in one hand and curling her other hand around his cock. 

"God, that's it." Jamie moaned as Claire set up a steady action.

Claire watched his face, looking for those familiar tell-tale signs that his orgasm was near: head back, eyes closed, breathing loud and ragged, his teeth biting his lower lip. His hands gripped the sides of the bath. Jamie lifted his head to look into Claire’s eyes, as with a cry, he came.

Claire shuffled closer to Jamie and put her arms around his neck before giving him a kiss.

“Water’s starting tae get cold now,” Jamie commented. “Why don’t we take this tae the bedroom?”

“Really, James Fraser? Ready for round two?”

“Aye, weel, I’m getting a crick in ma neck here now. Let me have a wee rest on the bed and I’ll see what I can do.”

***********  
Jamie snuggled close into Claire’s back, trying to fit the contours of her body, ensuring as much skin to skin contact as possible. 

She wiggled her bottom helpfully against his hips and laughed. “I’m not surprised you’re tired. Round two was just as good as round one.”

Jamie stroked her hair away from the side of her neck and kissed her, sending little shivers down her spine.

“Sassenach, can I ask ye…” his breath was warm on her neck. “Ye are ok? About tomorrow I mean? Bringing William home? A new part of our lives...”

Claire shifted around to face Jamie and stroke his cheek. “Jamie, it is a new chapter. But I’m ready to be there for you. Just as long as I don’t have to deal with Geneva… or her bloody mother.”

*****************  
Jamie pulled the Volvo up outside Geneva’s house, switched off the engine and sat quietly for a moment. This would be his first day with William and he wanted to make sure that nothing was missing, that there was nothing Geneva could become annoyed about. 

He didn’t actually care anymore what she thought of him, but he really didn’t want her to find ways to make this arrangement more complicated, or try to claim that it was unworkable and accuse him of unreasonable behaviour. And so Jamie felt that he would just have to grit his teeth and let some of the ‘Geneva-isms’ go without challenge.

He took a deep breath and headed for the front door.

Geneva answered the door at Jamie’s second knock. She greeted him without a smile and thrust a laminated sheet into his hands.

“Good morn -“ Jamie started to talk, before looking at the sheet. “What’s this?”

“On one side, it’s William’s regular schedule. On the other, it’s a checklist of everything I’m sending him with. I would be grateful if you return everything on the list when you come back this evening.”

Geneva picked up a couple of bags and passed them to Jamie. “I’m glad you got rid of the sports car. Did you get the car seat like I told you? Is it fitted properly?You didn’t try and do it yourself?"

Jamie sighed. “No, I didna do it meself, the garage did it when I picked the car up.”

It took Jamie three trips to the car to ensure that all the equipment Geneva deemed necessary for William’s seven hour stay with his father was loaded in the spacious boot. Finally, the baby himself was carried out and ‘loaded’ into the car by Geneva.

“Bye William, be a good boy for your father.” Her voice softened as she spoke to the baby, before kissing his cheek.

Geneva stood up, discreetly trying to wipe her glistening eyes, and turned to Jamie. Her voice returned to its usual cold tone.

“So, you got the email I sent you? I trust you have everything on that list now at your house?” 

Jamie nodded, now anxious to get away and finally be on his own with his son. He moved over to the car door.

“Oh, one final thing…"

He sighed.

“That outfit is Gucci. I would appreciate no nasty stains on it.”

“Geneva,” Jamie spoke through gritted teeth. “He isna even three months yet. He canna move around on his own. What do ye think I’m going tae do? Sit him in a puddle?”

“No, but I know your father and sister will be meeting him. Please check their hands before they hold him. That is all. Goodbye. Five o’clock sharp, please.”

***********  
It took all Jamie’s willpower to stay focussed on the road and not to keep turning around to see William. There were times, he could admit now, when he doubted that this day would ever arrive, or that it would take months spent in lawyers’ offices and courtrooms.

After fifteen minutes or so, with Jamie snatching quick glimpses of William while stationary at red traffic lights, he could stand it no longer. He pulled off the main road onto a quiet side street and parked the car. He opened the rear passenger door and crouched down.

William stirred as Jamie took his hand, marvelling at how tiny it was in comparison with his. Jamie stroked William’s head, the soft down seemed much redder now. He still couldn’t quite believe that something so perfect could have come from something as disastrous as his relationship with Geneva.

This was, Jamie realised, his first time alone with his son. There was no one hovering disapprovingly in the background. Just father and son together. 

“So, William, ye’re off tae yer other home now,” Jamie whispered. “Off tae meet the rest of yer family, the Scottish part of yer family… weel… and Claire, who may be a Sassenach, but we’ll forgive her fer that, shan’t we? She’s our special Sassenach.”

Jamie carried on talking quietly and softly stroked his son’s cheek. William stirred again and yawned slightly before opening his eyes. Slowly, he gave his father a wide gummy smile, a trail of drool escaping from a corner of his mouth.

Jamie gasped and then grinned in response. “Ye’re a bonny lad, William and ye ken yer Da. Come on, we’d best be heading home otherwise that Sassenach of ours will be having our guts for garters.”


	3. A Poignant Assembly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for William to meet the family...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments. I really appreciate them all
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve and @wickedgoodbooks

_And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees -- Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life._  
J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_

While Jamie went to pick William up for the first time, visibly bristling with excitement, Claire moved systematically from room to room, checking that no rogue dust had somehow manifested during the night. 

She knew that Jamie was right. It didn’t matter to Brian, Murtagh, Jenny or Ian whether anything was out of place, but it was important to her. She wanted everything to be perfect. She wanted a perfect family, the kind of family life she had never had, for William and the children she and Jamie would have together.

Claire had just finished unloading the dishwasher when the doorbell rang. Standing on the doorstep were Brian and Murtagh. Brian greeted Claire with a warm embrace while Murtagh rushed past.

“Sorry, Claire, I canna wait. I’m burstin’ fer a piss. Been desperate since Glencoe. Yon man wouldna stop. Couldna wait tae get here.”

Brian followed Claire into the kitchen. 

“Coffee?”

Brian nodded.

“You are actually quite early, you know. Jamie’s only just gone to fetch William.” Claire said as she put the kettle on and collected the coffee from the fridge.

“Aye, I ken. But I jes’ wanted tae see ye before all the commotion with the bairn and Jenny and her rabble. I wanted tae check how ye’re doing with all this.”

Claire stopped preparing the coffee and turned to face Brian.

“I’m fine… truly. I must admit, it is going to be strange at first, having William around for part of the week. But it’ll be strange for Jamie too. It’s one steep learning curve for both of us. It seems like we’ve been planning and talking about this for so long and now it’s here we’re a bit in shock.”

Brian laughed. “Ye and every other new parent. It’s nae different, ye ken.”

Claire added coffee into the cafetière and poured the boiling water over it. “And Jamie has William for a few day visits before he stays overnight. So, I guess Jamie’s being eased in gently, you might say.”

“Ye better make sure Jamie does all the tendin’ in the night. Dinna make it too easy fer him.” Murtagh joined them in the kitchen. “Christ, I feel better fer that. Brian made us leave Lallybroch afore six this morning, with no stops. He canna wait tae see his new grandson. And, I admit, I canna wait either. He looks a braw laddie from his photos.”

“Well, if it’s been such an early start this morning, do you two fancy some toast, or...how about a bacon sandwich?”

Brian and Murtagh looked at each other. Claire sighed. “I can cook some stuff, you know.”

“Aye, sorry lass. We jes’ are so used tae not eating anything prepared in this kitchen, on account of Jamie’s lack of… er… skills. A bacon sandwich would be grand. Thanks.”

Claire made to move across to the fridge. Brian caught her arm and gently pulled her back to him. “Claire, I dinna usually say things like this, but Jamie is a lucky man tae have ye stick around. And he kens it. His mam woulda loved tae see him settled like this.” Brian stroked Claire’s hand. “And his mam woulda loved ye, Claire. Truly.”

Murtagh cleared his throat.

“A-Aye, Claire. Ellen woulda loved ye.” Murtagh repeated.  
*****************

Claire, Brian and Murtagh sat companionably around the kitchen table with full stomachs and empty plates. The clicking of the key in the front door lock alerted them to Jamie and the newest family member. 

Brian immediately stood up and rushed into the hallway, closely followed by Murtagh. Claire hung back a little and gathered her phone, ready to capture the family welcome.

Jamie led the procession and carried William in his car seat into the living room. Brian and Murtagh settled themselves on the sofa while Jamie placed William’s car seat on a chair and unfastened the straps. Claire stood in the doorway, phone at the ready.

Gently, Jamie lifted his son, holding him close to his chest, and passed him to his father. Brian’s eyes glistened with tears as he gazed down at William, still fast asleep. Jamie stood next to Claire, who was busy taking pictures of Grandda and grandson together, with Murtagh softly stroking the little lad’s head.

Claire put the phone down and looked at Jamie. He smiled and drew her close to him. “Look at them, Sassenach. I canna believe that we’ve got here...when I think back on all the difficulties of the past year. But, let me tell ye, on the way home, he smiled at me. A real smile, no’ just a random movement… a proper one. Mebbe, he’ll smile fer ye later… although ye may not get a chance tae cuddle him today, especially once our Jenny sets eyes on him.”

“That’s ok. I’ll have plenty of time when it’s just us. Let your family have their time today.”

Together Jamie and Claire watched as William finally woke in his grandfather’s arms.

“How was Geneva, by the way?” Claire continued.

“The same as ever. She gave me a laminated sheet with William’s schedule on it and a list of items tae be returned. Oh, and told me no’ tae get his outfit dirty. It’s Gucci, apparently.”

“Gucci? Who buys a baby a… Oh never mind. But maybe, when you go and change his nappy, change him into one of the ‘outfits’ you’ve bought him.”

William started to turn a bit red as his face took on a look of intense concentration.

Claire laughed. “Which may not be too long. Time for daddy duty.”

****************  
Jamie complimented himself on his much improved nappy changing abilities, mess totally contained this time. William lay on the changing table, happily kicking his legs, enjoying the freedom.

“So, ma wee man, we’ll keep yer Gucci designer clothes all nice and clean fer yer ma-- mummy -- and we’ll pop ye in an outfit from that famous designer, er, ‘Asda’, shall we?”

He slid a fresh nappy under his bottom as William, as if in agreement, gurgled before releasing a miniature fountain over Jamie’s hand.

“Argh, ye wee tyke. A clean nappy and ma hand…”

Jamie quickly reached for the wipes and yet another nappy.

With William freshly changed and dressed in his supermarket outfit, Jamie headed for the stairs. A sudden crescendo of noise downstairs announced the arrival of Jenny, Ian and their children. Even from upstairs, Jamie could clearly hear his nephew calling him.

“Unca Jamie, Unca Jamie, where is ye? Mam says ye have a ‘prise fer me. What is it? Can I play wi’ it?”

Jamie came down the stairs slowly, suddenly very aware of the fragility of the baby in his arms and followed the noise into the living room.

Wee Jamie immediately rushed to his uncle. “Whatcha got? Can I see?” he cried pulling at Jamie’s shirt.

“Careful, Jamie,” Jenny scolded. “Come over here and ye can see with me.”

As Wee Jamie obeyed his mother, Jenny turned to Claire and whispered. “I havena told Wee Jamie anything about his cousin. His uncle can do all the explaining, and serve him right too. Let him figure out what tae say tae a four year old.”

Jamie gave William to Jenny. He immediately settled into her arms, bringing his hand up to his mouth. After a few attempts, he succeeded in finding his thumb and started sucking intently. 

Her face softened as she stared at the baby. “Oh Jamie, he’s so lovely. When I think about…” Jenny paused and cleared her throat, blinking back tears. She tried again. “...when I think about all ye’ve been through… the pair of ye. But tae look at him, he’s worth it.”

Wee Jamie huddled close to his mother, staring at the baby with a bemused look on his face. “A baby. Is that ma ‘prise… a baby? We already got one o’ them.”

He jerked his thumb in the direction of Maggie, sitting on Claire’s lap, happily chewing the corner of a soft baby book.

“An’ ye canna play games wi’ her. She canna play the footie, can she Da?” He addressed the last remark to Ian.

Ian smiled. “No son, she canna yet, but give her time. She and William will be able tae join ye soon enough.”

“Unca, did ye borrow the baby? Where’s his mam and da then?”

“Jamie, I’m William’s Da. He’s ma son.”

His nephew grinned. “Nah… ye’re Unca, no’ Da.” 

He looked to Jenny for confirmation. She momentarily drew her attention away from William and raised her eyebrows at Claire before speaking. “Jamie, yer Uncle is William’s da, like yer da is Maggie’s da too.”

Wee Jamie screwed his face up in thought and quietly went to sit down between Brian and Murtagh.

While Jamie went to make tea for everyone, different conversations sprang up around the room: Claire and Jenny talked together, while Ian, Brian and Murtagh started discussing how Jamie’s life would change. Nobody noticed how quiet Wee Jamie was.

Once all the adults were settled with a cup of tea, Jamie brought a glass of apple juice over to the lad before sitting on the floor next to his legs.

“Ye’re awfa quiet,” Jamie commented.

“Maggie came out of Mam’s tummy,” his nephew began, patting Jamie’s head playfully. “Mam said Da planted her there. And Mam’s tummy got awfa fat, so as Maggie had room tae grow in there. But…”

The other conversations died down as everyone listened.

He continued. “... but… Claire’s tummy didna get fat. How did William fit in there?”

Jamie felt himself redden. He looked over at Claire. “Claire isna William’s Mam. It’s a lady called Geneva.”

Jamie was pushed aside as Wee Jamie launched himself across the room and clung to Claire’s legs, burying his head in the part of her lap not occupied by his sister. 

“Care bear, I dinna want ye tae go.” His voice was muffled.

Ian took Maggie from Claire, leaving her free to comfort the now sobbing child. She scooped him up onto her lap, brushing his hair away from his face before giving him a noisy kiss. Jamie came and perched on the arm of the chair, next to Claire.

“Jamie, look at me.” Claire spoke softly. “I’m not going anywhere. Your uncle and I are getting married, remember. And I’m moving all my stuff in here in the next couple of weeks, so I’ll be here all the time.”

“But William’s mam…”

“William’s mummy has her own house, same as your uncle. So William will spend some time at his mummy’s house and the rest of the time here with his da. Don’t worry, Jamie. We’re fine.”

Wee Jamie put his hands on Claire’s cheeks, pulled her close and looked directly into her eyes.

“And ye’re no’ going nowhere? Promise?”

“I promise.”

The little lad twisted around to face his uncle. “Unca? If ye didna want tae live wi’ that lady, why did ye plant William in her tummy?”

Jamie blushed once more as everyone turned to look at him. He could see Jenny biting her lip trying not to laugh.

“Er… weel… I didna mean tae… it was an accident.”

Wee Jamie patted his uncle’s hand reassuringly. “Never mind, Unca. Next time, remember tae plant the baby in Claire’s tummy.”

He looked around as everyone burst out laughing, confused as to why his family were all laughing at his eminently good advice. Still he ploughed on with his questions.

“Care bear, what will William call ye… will he call ye Mam?”

Claire thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t think he”ll call me that. I’m not sure what he’ll call me..., probably Claire.”

“He canna call ye that. Ye need a special name.”

“What do ye suggest?” Jamie joined in the conversation, relieved that his nephew's line of enquiry had shifted.

“I dinna ken…. what about what ye call Claire? I hear it. Ye call her… er… er... Sackasan. William can call ye Sackasan.” Wee Jamie heaved a sigh, pleased that he had sorted out all his family’s problems.

Jamie put his arm around Claire. “How about it, then? Are ye happy tae be William’s Sackasan too?”

**************

Once everyone had left and Jamie had returned William, now clad once more in his still clean Gucci romper suit, to Geneva, the house seemed incredibly quiet.

Not that Claire or Jamie minded that. It had been a wonderful family occasion, one to be treasured and William, although he would never remember it, had been warmly welcomed into the Fraser family. 

But now, Jamie and Claire were both exhausted. It had been a very emotional day. They sat together on the sofa, Claire’s feet resting in Jamie’s lap while he rubbed them.

“Hey, ye should be doing this fer me. The amount of times I’ve been up and down those stairs today, fetching, carrying, changing. Ye may want tae think about doing the odd nappy change in the coming days, Sassenach.”

“But you’ve managed so beautifully today, Jamie. And feeding as well, no problem.”

“Aye, he's a good lad right enough. And I canna tell ye what it means tae me tae see him today with Da and Murtagh and Jenny… and ye. He’s part of the family… part of our family now.”

Claire closed her eyes and sighed in contentment. The foot massage was practically sending her to sleep. She yawned.

“Claire…”

She opened her eyes and looked at Jamie, now focussed on her face. He leant over her and kissed her cheek. “Ma Sassenach.” he breathed. “I wouldna be here, so happy and content wi’out ye.”

“So, what do ye think of Wee Jamie’s suggestion then? Are ye tae be William’s Sassenach too?” He continued.

“Such an awkward name for a little boy to pronounce, though.”

“Och, he’ll manage it somehow.”

“Yes, Jamie, I’ll be William’s Sassenach. Although, I should remind you that technically, Geneva is also a Sassenach… as is her mother.”

Jamie shuddered at the thought. “Aye, that may be. But ye and ye alone, Claire Beauchamp, will be our Sassenach, now and forever.”


	4. A Sartorial Confluence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you for taking the time to read, comment and give kudos. I am very grateful.
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou,@happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their support.
> 
> This is not really NSFW, just a teeny suggestive.

_There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends._

― Homer, _The Odyssey_

The pub was quiet as Jamie and John settled themselves in their usual corner table, gym bags discreetly placed out of the way. Not that the space was crowded so early in the evening, but at least it kept the landlord happy.

They sat quietly for a minute, drinking their whisky, before Jamie pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and started flicking through the screens.

“See here, John, these are the latest pictures I took of William, yesterday. See how he’s growing awfa big... what?”

John couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. He pursed his lips and tried to look serious. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

“Am I going on too much about the bairn? I dinna mean tae but I canna help it.”

John shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not that. I just can’t help but think about you at university. You’d run a mile at the merest whiff of commitment… as soon as any girl started talking about plans for the next week, let alone long term. And to see you now… getting married, baby, the works.”

Jamie smiled and put his phone down. “Aye, weel, I was young and foolish and I hadna met Claire. Turns out commitment is easy when ye’re with the right person. But what about ye, John, do ye no’ fancy that commitment… marriage, maybe a baby? Do ye ever think about that?”

John picked up his whisky glass and stared into it, unwilling to raise his eyes to Jamie. “Yes, I do… sometimes.”

He paused, then quickly continued. “But I don’t want a baby without a relationship and obviously the whole baby thing is more difficult for me. No little accidents… sorry Jamie. It takes more planning if I… we… wanted a family. So I don’t know if any of that will happen. But I’d like to think it might… one day. Up ‘till then, I’ll just be Uncle John to your William.”

Jamie glanced at this watch and took a final swig of his drink. “I best away. Claire’s round at mine… soon tae be ours… this evening and we are planning what needs to be done at the weekend, before the official move. So all her stuff can fit in the house too. She said she’s planning on hiring a rubbish skip.”

“She is joking…” He stood up and looked at John. “I think.”

*************  
“So, I’ve got a spreadsheet we need to work to,” Claire said happily as she opened up her laptop. “See, this column here is the list of things I’m bringing over from my flat, here’s where they’re going to go and this column is what we have to do to fit them in.”

Jamie studied the spreadsheet, then looked over at Claire. “What we have tae do with ma stuff?”

She nodded.

“And what’s C… R… B?”

“Charity, Recycle, Bin. Come on, I’ve gone through all my stuff at the flat. Over half the stuff’s gone to charity. Time for the same here. I bet you’ve not had a good clear out since you moved in, have you?”

“There may be a good reason why I keep things…”

“Is there?”

“Shush, Sassenach, I’m trying tae think of one… anyways... an Excel spreadsheet and ye look mighty proud of it.”

“I am and I thought you’d appreciate it, as an accountant and all. Just think of it as a balance sheet as we merge our assets.”

Jamie watched as Claire gathered up the laptop and roll of black bin bags. He couldn’t help but smile. This was the start of another chapter, so many new beginnings this year. It was exciting knowing that he would be waking up every morning next to Claire. He realised that they were practically living together already, but soon it would be official. And then they would be able to start planning the wedding.

But first came the hard work: sorting through all his belongings to make room for Claire’s. Mind you, he knew he would willingly give it all away as long as he had Claire… but there was really no need to tell her that, just in case.

“Shall we start in the bedroom?” Claire asked as she headed upstairs. 

“Aye,” Jamie replied with a failed attempt at a wink. Claire, fortunately, was too far up the stairs to notice.

He joined Claire in his (their) bedroom, where she was standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips and contemplating the wall of fitted wardrobes. He walked straight over and proudly opened the doors of a double wardrobe. “See, made a start. This wardrobe is cleared and ready for yer clothes. If I give ye half the storage here, is that enough space?”

Claire nodded in agreement before walking across to another cupboard which she opened to reveal large evenly spaced shelves, each filled to capacity with an assortment of men’s clothing.

“How about here? Can I have a couple of these shelves too?”

“Aye, of course. I just need to have a wee look through the shelves…" Jamie began as Claire systematically scooped the contents of each shelf up in her arms and placed them in piles on the bed. The black bin bags hovered ominously at the edge of Jamie’s vision.

“Ok, so…” Claire reached across the bed. “What do we have here?”

She swiftly flicked through the pile of trousers. “Four pairs of cargo pants and two pairs of cargo shorts… really?”

“Aye, weel, they’re awfa practical, ye ken. Look at all the wee pockets… sae useful fer carrying all yer stuff. Ye have a handbag, I can use the pockets.”

“But I’ve never seen you wear them. When did you buy them?”

Jamie moved and sat on the edge of the bed next to the items in question. He gathered a pair up as he answered.

“A while ago…” he said evasively. “I thought mebbe I could wear them with William, keep things in the pockets… wet wipes… tissues… fresh nappies…”

“And,” he continued excitedly. “See this pair, look at the wee zips on the legs. Ye can even turn these intae shorts. Useful in Scotland when ye dinna ken what the weather’s going tae be.”

Jamie started to unzip one of the legs before Claire stopped him.

“That’s ok, no need to demonstrate. But when you’re out and about with these ‘useful’ trousers-slash-shorts, where would you put the bits of legs that you’ve unzipped? I mean, according to you, you don’t need a bag, and the pockets are going to be full of William’s stuff.”

“Is that a ‘no’ on the shorts then, Sassenach?”

“Up to you, Jamie, but how about you try them on and then make a decision?”

Jamie mumbled agreement as Claire turned her attention to her next pile of t-shirts.

“Ed Hardy? How long have you had these?”

“Probably while I was at uni.”

“And you’ve kept them all this time?”

“They’ll be classics, ye ken. Mebbe worth a bob or two.”

“All the more reason to give them to charity. Try one on if you like. Here you go.”

Claire tossed one of the t-shirts to Jamie. He stood and started to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait a second.” Claire stopped him.

“Eh? Ye dinna usually stop me taking ma clothes off, Sassenach.”

“Let’s just see if there is anything else for you to try on.”

Claire efficiently rifled through a pile of gym wear, plucking an item from the middle. She held up a pair of midnight blue Lycra cycling shorts, still complete with labels.

“And you don’t even have a bike.”

“Aye, I do, up at Lallybroch. I bought them and then decided they were a wee bit too revealing tae wear. And I must have forgotten tae take them back.”

Claire watched as Jamie quickly stripped off his black jeans and checked shirt before trying on the beige cargo pants and Ed Hardy t-shirt.

Jamie pulled the trousers up, meeting some resistance over his thighs. It took a considerable amount of wiggling and gentle tugging, but the trousers were on. Claire suppressed a smile as he breathed in, sucking his stomach in and trying to force the waistband to meet. With the fly zip not even half way up, he conceded defeat, let out the breath and turned his attention to the t-shirt. After struggling to get his head through the t-shirt, he finally managed it, the shirt’s hem landing a couple of inches above his navel. 

Claire burst out laughing as Jamie stood in front of her, his arms held awkwardly at his sides, his muscles clearly defined through the straining fabric of the t-shirt.

“I canna move ma arms much, nor ma legs and I think I’ll need yer help to get me out of these.”

Jamie bent over as Claire grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it back over his head, snagging his ears in the process.

“So, alright, charity shop they are then.” He reached for his shirt.

“Just a minute,” Claire interrupted. “One more thing for you to try on.”

She pointed at the cycle shorts.

“Nah, they're fer the charity shop too. I told ye they’re a bit indecent.”

“I know. Just try them on… please.”

Jamie gave a chuckle as he turned away from Claire, quickly shimmied the cargo pants and his underpants off and pulled the cycle shorts on. He briefly adjusted himself before facing Claire once more.

“Weel, I canna give these tae the charity shop. Not now ma cock has touched them.”

“Er… that’s fine. I don’t think I want you to get rid of these.” Claire unashamedly stared at Jamie’s body, her gaze working its way down -- the broad shoulders, the muscles of his chest and abdomen narrowing to his hips, the strong thighs. She reached out and lightly touched his cock, the stirrings of his erection clearly visible through the Lycra. She stepped closer and grabbed his backside, bringing him tight against her.

With his breath hot against her neck, she let out a little sigh.

“Do these turn ye on?” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh god, yes.” She moaned as she pushed Jamie onto the bed.

***********  
“Jamie.” Claire giggled. “Really… already?”

“Mmm… eh… what?” Jamie’s voice was sleepy in Claire’s ear.

Claire reached behind her, fingers groping for the persistent hardness pushing against her back, only to find the roll of black bin bags. This had obviously been missed earlier when Jamie had roughly swept everything off their bed in his haste to satisfy Claire’s urgent excitement, thanks to his cycle shorts, which were now wrapped around one of his ankles. He shook his leg to free himself from them.

“What?” he repeated, now slightly less drowsy. He could feel Claire laughing, causing her whole body to shake.

“I thought you’d made a quick recovery. Turns out, it was only the bin bags, though.” She brandished the offending items aloft.

“Good girth there, I’ll take that as a compliment, Sassenach.”

“I need to get up.” Claire made to sit up but Jamie held her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“Rest a while longer…”

They lay quietly together for a moment before Jamie started to speak.

“Ye ken this is our anniversary today”

“No, Jamie, you’re wrong. That’s at the end of the month”

“Ah, weel, I ken that’s the proper one, the anniversary of our first date. But it’s Rupert and Fiona’s wedding anniversary today, and that’s where I first spotted ye at that hotel. I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if I’d have followed yer arse instead of just staring at it heading up those stairs.”

“Or if I’d have gone looking for you once I’d seen you with Jenny…”

“Imagine, nae more Geneva tae deal with in our lives.”

“Mmm, lovely as that sounds, it would mean no William.”

Jamie pulled Claire onto her side to face him. “Aye, and I truly couldna be without him now. I can be sorry for many things, and I am sorry for what ye have had tae go through but I am no’ sorry that we have William.”

Claire stroked Jamie’s face, rubbing the weekend growth of ginger bristles with her finger tips. “And you know, Jamie, neither am I.”


	5. An Inaugural Nighttime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, and it’s full of fluffy fluffiness. This is the chapter where it ‘joins’ with the final chapter of The Ties That Bind (easy to spot where!).
> 
> The quote in the chapter is from Winnie The Pooh by A.A.Milne.
> 
> thanks to you all for reading and kudos and commenting. It means a lot to me. Thanks, of course to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve and @wickedgoodbooks for their support and input

_“Children should never have baths,’ my grandmother said. ‘It's a dangerous habit."_

_‘I agree, Grandmamma.” _

― Roald Dahl, _The Witches_

Jamie tried to relax and enjoy one final coffee in peace while he had the chance. But every sound from outside had him up and looking out of the living room window, scouring the road for the dark blue Alfa Romeo.

He stood once more and glanced at his watch. “In another ten minutes she will be late,” he muttered to himself. “Just like her tae have planned it that way… tae have me waiting at her convenience.”

He quickly climbed the stairs for a final check in William’s room. Everything was ready. Claire had made the cot up that morning with freshly laundered bedding chosen to match the grey wallpaper, a little sleepsuit folded on the bars of the cot.

Jamie smiled at the wallpaper. That had definitely been Claire’s choice, a subtle repeating pattern of the ‘Hundred Acre Wood’ map. Sometimes Claire came up to this room, just to study the wallpaper, running her fingers lightly along the tracks on the map.

Claire had also taken the time to wrap the fairy lights around a shelf, well away from any exploring hands in the near future. Jamie looked again and noticed that she had placed her beloved set of Winnie the Pooh books on the shelf, one of the few momentos of her parents. It touched him to recognise how willing Claire was to share her treasured possessions -- and her life -- with his son.

The doorbell disturbed his thoughts. Jamie looked at the clock on the opposite wall - five minutes early. He rushed downstairs and opened the door. Geneva stood there holding a sleeping William in his car seat.

“Boot’s open, can you just get the rest of the stuff?” Geneva brushed past Jamie and headed into the living room.

Jamie dumped the contents of the boot in the hall to be dealt with later and joined Geneva in the living room. She leant over William, who was now slowly waking up, and removed his little jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Jamie glanced at the label… Ralph Lauren. He smiled -- the contrast couldn’t be greater with William’s wardrobe upstairs, comprised mainly of supermarket or chain store items and hand-me-downs from his wee cousin.

Geneva lifted William and cradled him close to her. Over her shoulder, William looked around surveying the now familiar environment before his eyes latched onto his father. Jamie watched as she closed her eyes and inhaled the intoxicating aroma of their baby. He made to take William from her.

“You know,” Geneva said softly, reluctant to pass William to his father. “Tonight will be my first adult night out for ages… dinner with work colleagues. I’ve been looking forward to it so much. Having a grown up life. And now it’s here, I don’t want to leave William for a whole night. I’m going to miss him so much.”

“I ken it may be difficult fer ye tae start with, but ye have tae do it. It will get easier, trust me. And ye’re leaving him with his Da, no’ a stranger. Imagine how it’s been fer me, every time I have tae leave ma son.”

Geneva’s eyes snapped open. Jamie sighed and quickly carried on talking, anxious not to allow Geneva an opportunity to suggest any change to their legally agreed arrangements. “And ye ken William will be fine all night with us. He’s used to this house now, and his Da… and Claire.”

Gently, Jamie took the baby from Geneva. 

“Right so, I’ve emailed his schedule to you.” Geneva returned to her usual brisk self. “Please ensure that you keep to it. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With one final kiss to William’s head, she hurriedly left.

************  
Claire dropped her bag next to the pram, still carelessly stranded in the hall.

“Aye, weel, ye see yer man there. That’s Huw Jones… and that’s called a try… and now Laidlaw’s got tae kick that funny shaped ball in the middle of that ‘H’ shape. Jones plays fer Glasgow Warriors. I’ll take ye tae see them when ye’re a wee bit bigger…” Jamie’s voice came from the living room.

Claire stood in the doorway and surveyed the room. Two pairs of feet, one incredibly large, the other deliciously small, were both clad in white socks. Two bottoms, one with more padding than the other, were both covered in baggy blue shorts. Two heads nestled close together, both with the same distinctive red hair. Father and son lay side by side on their tummies, faces pointing up to the rugby on the television. 

Jamie stopped his narration and rolled slightly to look at Claire. “Hello, Sassenach. We’re jes’ having a wee bit of tummy time. But William here is no’ too fond of being on his tummy, so we decided tae take our minds off it and watch how Scotland beat England last year.”

William’s entertainment now having been spoiled, his head flopped forward onto the playmat and he started to grizzle. Jamie quickly scooped him up and popped him in his seat.

Claire smiled. “You do know, don’t you, that William may end up supporting England?”

Jamie winced. “Now why would he be doing that?”

“Oh, maybe because one half of his family is English?”

“Nae, Sassenach, I willna let that happen. That's why I’m starting him on the rugby now. Wee bit of indoctrination.”

He glanced at the clock. “Och, time for his bottle. Got tae keep tae the schedule.”

Claire followed Jamie into the kitchen.

“I’ll help you make it up.” 

“No need,” Jamie responded as he switched the bottle warmer on and dived into the fridge for the white wine. “Bottle for you too, madam?”

Claire shook her head. “School night.”

Jamie replaced the white wine. “Geneva made up the bottles, it’s breast milk.”

“Wow,” Claire was genuinely surprised. “I didn’t think Geneva would still be breastfeeding. I assumed it might interfere with her lifestyle too much.”

“Aye, I ken… me too. But fer all her many… many faults, she does love William.”

“A lucky little boy… so much love.”

Jamie picked up the warmed bottle, as a loud rattling sound floated into the kitchen.

“Sounds like he’s giving that baby gym a fair whacking. Tell me, Sassenach, is it too soon tae buy him a Scotland rugby shirt?”

**************  
Claire pottered around the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, wiping down the surfaces with one ear on the baby monitor.

From upstairs, she could hear the splashing of water and the continuous stream of chatter from Jamie as he bathed William. She took silence from the baby as an encouraging sign. While part of her longed to go upstairs and join in, she felt it was important for Jamie to do this for the first time on his own, both to build the bond between father and son and also to increase his confidence as a new parent. Geneva had, until recently, given him no opportunities to do so.

And besides, other than in her professional capacity as a doctor, her own experience with babies and children was woefully minimal. She’d never bathed a baby or put one to bed. As Claire had told Geillis, she knew the theory, just never had to put it into practice. Well, she told herself, that will all be changing. She wanted time to bond with William too, she just had to let Jamie take the lead.

“Sassenach,” Jamie’s voice crackled through the baby monitor. “Come and join us.”

Claire made her way up to the bathroom to find Jamie sitting on the floor, holding William, tightly wrapped in a hooded towel. Jamie’s shirt was draped over the sink, soaking wet. His curls were similarly damp. 

“I didna realise what a tricky business this bathing can be. Babies are slippery wee things, ye ken.” 

Jamie spotted the concerned look on Claire’s face and hurriedly continued. “Nae worries, Sassenach, he’s fine. Nothing happened tae him. A wriggling wet bairn is a tough thing tae handle is all.”

Claire stepped closer to the pair.

“I wouldna kneel there if I was ye. Mentioning no names but somebody may or may no’ have done a bit of a wee when their nappy came off and I havena had chance tae clean it up yet.”

Claire deftly skirted the patch and knelt on the other side of Jamie. He passed William to her. “There ye are, Sassenach. He’s all wrapped up like a tasty wee sausage roll.”

William looked up at Claire, smiled and very loudly farted.

***********

Jamie looked at the clock by the side of the bed. He wasn’t sure what had woken him. He rolled over to Claire’s side of the bed -- now cold and empty. He got out of bed, stumbling in the darkness, and headed onto the landing.

A light was on in the adjacent bedroom, and he could hear low murmur of a voice. He pushed the door open and stood watching in the doorway.

“... from the top of the tree, there came a loud buzzing noise. Winnie the Pooh sat down at the foot of the tree, put his head between his paws, and began to think…”

Claire sat on the rocking chair, the light from the reading lamp highlighting the auburn and golden tones in her hair, the motion of the chair causing her curls to sway gently. In her arms, she held William, his eyes fixed on her face, thumb firmly in his mouth.

Jamie felt like his heart was going to burst -- his love and his son together. An image, a memory, he knew he would treasure forever.

Claire looked up at him and smiled softly. “Hey. Sorry, did we wake you?”

Jamie shook his head. “Nah. I didna hear him greetin’?”

“Oh, no, he wasn’t crying. I just wanted to check on him. This is all new for William, you know, first night at his Da’s and he was wide awake. So I thought a cuddle and a bit of a story might settle him down… come join us. We need someone for the voices.”

Jamie walked over to the rocking chair. He kissed the top of Claire’s head, then knelt down beside them, kissing William’s forehead. Claire moved the book closer to him.

Jamie began to read: “...then he thought another long time, and said: ‘And the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey.” And then he got up and said: “And the only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it’...”

William’s eyes started to close. Claire could see him fighting to keep them open, but the effort was too great. She shushed Jamie and put William down in his cot.

Leaving only the soft fairy lights on, they returned to their bedroom, gratefully snuggling down under the duvet.

“Quite an evening.” Claire spoke softly.

“Aye, and plenty more like it tae come. It’s a commitment right enough. Ye aren’t sorry ye signed up fer it, are ye? I mean, now we’ve experienced a bit more of it?”

Claire could feel Jamie tense involuntarily, waiting for her answer. She turned to face him in the dark.

“Never.” She responded and felt him relax into her.


	6. A Celebratory Repast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another weekend, another chapter... and it's full of anniversary fluffiness, with a sideorder of Geillis.
> 
> Thanks to you all for reading, commenting, kudos-ing!
> 
> Thanks as always to @soinspiredbyyou,@happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their help and support

_Phil: [upon receiving Claire's gift] I am so excited. [Opens envelope] Coupons for...five free hugs._

_Claire: You don't like it?_

_ Phil: Are you kidding me? I love it. It's so creative--coupons for hugs, which are usually free, but this makes it official, which is so great._

Modern Family

Claire paused as the waiter poured their wine, then took a large sip and continued her conversation with Geillis.

“So, G, what do you think? It’s our first anniversary coming up and I still haven’t got a clue what to get Jamie. I want to do something, but what?”

Geillis pursed her lips and closed her eyes momentarily as if deep in thought. “Weel, personally I dinna think ye need to get anything. The fact ye’ve stuck with him through the past year is gift enough in ma opinion. And, if it were me, I’d be wanting something special wrapped up on ma plate from him too.”

“I know, I know.” Claire laughed. “But just stick with me. Give me some ideas, please. I tried to book the restaurant where we had our first date, but I couldn’t get a table. So... any thoughts? What do you give Dougal?”

“Generally I give him a voucher…”

“I was hoping for something a bit more original, but ok. Where from? John Lewis? Marks and Spencer’s? Sports shop?”

“Och no, I make him a voucher meself. It entitles him tae one night of, er, living his fantasies, shall we say? I mean, last year it started with-”

Claire held her hands up. Having sat through some of her friend’s more ‘intimate’ stories, she guessed where the story would lead and she was keen to get back to the matter at hand -- her and Jamie’s one year anniversary.

“Stop right there, G. Can we get back to discussing a present for Jamie… not a voucher? Besides, why does Dougal need a voucher anyway? I thought it’d be a regular thing.”

Geillis affected a look of mild disgust. “Claire, ye dinna ken what his many and varied fantasies involve. It’s just too fuckin’ expensive. I mean last year I ended up buying a whole new set of cushions… ruined beyond repair they were...”

The conversation paused as the waiter brought the steaming bowls of pasta to their table. Having offered Parmesan and black pepper, he departed, leaving them to pick up where they left off.

“So, G, vouchers are a no-no.”

Geillis shrugged at Claire’s dismissal of her idea. “I dinna ken then. What sort of things did ye get fer Frank?”

“The last birthday present that I bought him was a dehumidifier, to help with his sinuses, you know. And he bought me a water filter. He… we… he didn’t believe in non-practical gifts. And we didn’t bother with anniversaries or Valentine’s, anything like that. Frank was, self-confessed, unromantic.”

Claire twirled several strands of spaghetti around her fork and neatly popped the mass into her mouth. After an accompanying swig of wine, she continued.

“But, you know, that wasn’t all Frank. I never thought I had a romantic bone in my body either. I was perfectly happy not having to remember anniversaries, or pay a fiver for a card that would be thrown away a week later. But now… now, G, it’s different. It feels different. I want to do those things, I want to celebrate anniversaries with Jamie. Just need to find something that’s not too cheesy.”

Geillis smiled. “Then go fer it, girl. Ye’ll think of something, I’m sure.

**************

Over the next few days, Claire was not sure if Jamie really was nonplussed about their forthcoming anniversary, or if he was sensing her very real frustration at not finding a suitable gift for him and was deliberately downplaying the date.

“Och,” he said to her on numerous occasions. “‘Tis no big deal, this anniversary. I ken we’ll have far more tae celebrate over the years. We’ll jes’ head out fer a meal somewhere. Mebbe a curry? Or do ye fancy Chinese?”

“A meal will be great. You decide. I don’t mind.” was her standard response as she scoured the internet looking for inspiration.

But it wasn’t just the gift that was bothering Claire. All her life she had been reluctant to truly and openly express her emotions. As a small child, after the death of her parents, when asked how she was, she would always shrug, smile and answer with a standard “ok”, ignoring the rage and fury swirling around inside. Only with Uncle Lamb had she been willing to drop the façade and give her emotions free rein.

Similarly, with Frank, when faced with another cancelled date or his general displeasure, she would shrug and tuck it quietly away in her mind, along with all the other broken promises and disappointments.

But, with Jamie, she felt her barriers coming down. For the first time, she was beginning to feel comfortable with her emotions and wanted him to know exactly what he meant to her. Finding the right card and message mattered, and was proving tricky.

Eventually, she found what she was looking for and could relax.

************  
Jamie’s car was already parked in the drive when Claire arrived home, prompted by a ‘hurry home, Sassenach’ text .

Other than a ‘happy anniversary’ greeting that morning, a blatant disregard for morning breath and a mutually satisfying, albeit speedy, union, there had been no mention of celebratory plans.

Claire found Jamie in the kitchen, already dressed in navy trousers and denim blue shirt, selecting two champagne flutes from the array of glassware in the cupboard.

“Do ye fancy a glass of champagne while ye get ready?” he greeted her as he swiftly deposited the glasses on the kitchen counter and put his hands on her waist, pulling her close against him.

“I’ve booked us a table, and a taxi. So champagne yes or no?”

“Mmm, yes, thanks. Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Och no. But ye are a bit of a vixen when ye’ve had a drink or two. I canna say I mind. And, after all, ‘tis the weekend tomorrow. So go on upstairs and I’ll bring ye a glass.”

It didn’t take Claire long to get ready. A quick shower, a half hearted attempt to tame her curls, two glasses of champagne, and she was dressed and made up just in time for the taxi.

***************

The restaurant was exactly the same as that night the year before. Jamie took Claire’s hand and led her to the bar.

“What would ye like tae drink, Sassenach?”

Claire smiled at Jamie as the memories from their first evening came flooding back. “Glenmorangie, please.”

“Ice?” He asked, grinning.

“Er… well…” Claire hesitated before continuing. “Just joking. No ice, thank you. I’m surprised you carried on with our date when you saw me putting ice in my single malt.”

“Aye, weel, it was a close thing, ye ken. It was only the thought of yer arse next tae me that kept me on ma seat.” His hand snaked down her back to briefly cup a buttock to prove the point.

Laughing, Claire batted his hand away before she perched on a tall bar stool and sipped her whisky contentedly. “I tried to book a table here for tonight... tried a couple of weeks ago. How did you manage it, was there a cancellation?”

“No, I booked it last month.”

“So all that crap you were spouting about getting a Chinese or Indian was…”

“Was just tae throw ye off the scent. I didna want ye tae feel ye had to do anything special fer today… no pressure.”

Jamie placed his whisky on the bar next to Claire’s glass, her hand still wrapped around it. A slight movement of his finger was all it took to touch her, to lightly stroke the back of her hand.

“When we touch…” she began to speak quietly, not wanting the barman to overhear. “It’s always different. It’s like… like electricity sparks between us.”

Jamie leaned closer to Claire, so close she could feel his breath warm on her neck, sending goosebumps down her spine. “Aye, it’s no’ usual between a man and a woman what we feel --“

The ringtone of his mobile broke the moment. Sighing, he reached in his pocket, pulled out his phone and declined the call.

“Geneva,” he explained apologetically.

“Hadn’t you better take it? What if it’s important… William?”

Jamie typed a short message and pressed send. A ping swiftly followed. After another short message, Jamie’s phone went back into his pocket.

“She wants tae discuss nurseries fer William. I said I’d call her tomorrow. Ah, here comes the Maître d’. Looks like our table’s ready.”

It was, Claire noted, the same intimate semi-circular booth that they had occupied before. She knew that Jamie would have asked for this spot again

A year ago, there had been a hesitancy before they dared to touch, each unsure of the other. Now, there was no need for thought. They slid along the curved seat to meet in the middle -- thighs, hips and shoulders in contact, Claire’s hand resting on Jamie’s thigh, his hand rubbing circles on the back of her neck.

With one free hand each, they shared the menu, quickly scanning the choices. The menu was unchanged and so with unspoken agreement, Jamie ordered for both of them.

“I wonder what sort of nurseries Geneva will be wanting to look at.” Claire began as the waiter poured two glasses of red wine.

“Nah, no talk about Geneva tonight, or her mother, or even William. This is about us tonight.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Claire took a sip of her wine as Jamie began to fumble around in his jacket. “Have you lost something?”

“No… ah here it is…”

He pulled a cracked leather pouch from an inner pocket and placed it on the table in front of Claire. He opened it before taking her hand and tipping the contents out.

Claire gasped as the creamy white pearls cascaded over her outstretched palm. She looked up at Jamie, who was watching her expectantly, and stroked his cheek, the pearls rubbing smoothly between their skin.

“Jamie, I don’t know what to say. They’re beautiful. Thank you… thank you.”

He smiled. “They were ma mother’s… and ma grandmother’s. My grandda gave them tae her on their wedding, and then Da gave them tae Mam when they got married. And now they belong tae ye. And one day our son will give them tae his wife. I hoped ye’d like them.”

Claire turned away as Jamie carefully fastened the necklace around her neck.

“They look sae bonny on ye. I was thinking ye could wear them on our wedding day… that’s the something old.”

Her fingers lightly traced a path over the necklace. “Jamie, I love them. And the story behind them. It means so much.”

“Aye, they’re verra precious tae me… as are ye, Claire.” Jamie’s finger followed the same path.

“And I ken we’ve had sae much going on, we’ve no’ spoken about wedding plans yet. But I want us tae start planning. I dinna want a long engagement… unless ye do, of course. Let’s get married this year, Sassenach… if ye want tae?”

“Yes, Jamie. That’s what I want too.”

***************  
Full of good food and slightly merry from the champagne, whisky and wine, Claire and Jamie made their way home. The short taxi ride from the restaurant felt, to Claire, like an eternity. She longed to get home and give her gift to Jamie. And then she longed to go to bed and lie next to him, touching skin to skin the length of their bodies, and run her fingers through his chest hairs before wrapping her legs around his hips and urging him into her…

She squirmed involuntarily in her seat. Jamie, somehow sensing her thoughts, laced his fingers with hers. His thumb drew rhythmic circles on her palm, only increasing her longing.

***********  
Once back in their house, Claire rushed upstairs to retrieve Jamie’s gift -- hidden in her wardrobe -- before joining him in the living room.

Spotting the large present in her hands, he grinned. “Ye didna have tae get me anything, ye ken.”

“I know. But I wanted to. I wanted to tell you exactly what you mean to me. I don’t always find it easy to say the words to you…”

“But ye show me in everything ye do fer me... and now fer William.”

“Well, go on and open it, then.”

Jamie ripped the paper off and studied the gift, a framed photograph, closely.

“See,” Claire explained nervously. “It’s a print of the night sky. That’s the stars and constellations in the Glasgow sky a year ago tonight. When we were on our first date. Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it sae much… that was above us when I was falling in love with ye. I knew then ye were the only one fer me.”

“And there’s a card. I couldn’t find one in the shops, so I had to make it.”

Jamie opened the envelope to find a photo of the glen near Lallybroch where they first exchanged ‘I love you’s’. He turned it over and read out loud.

_Whenever I am away from you,_  
The distance between us  
A burdensome thing,  
I always think of you in colors,  
The smell of coffee as you so  
proudly make it for me,  
the perfect sunlight spilling  
In through the window.  
I miss you even when you  
are beside me.  
I dream of your body  
even when you are sleeping in my arms. 

_The words I love you_  
could never be enough.  
I suppose we’ll have to invent  
new ones. 

Jamie pulled Claire into his chest, her cheeks wet against his skin.

His voice was choked with emotion. “Oh, Claire, ma Sassenach. How much do I love ye?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is by Christopher Poindexter. IRL I am an unromantic soul and tend not to read poetry, but when I found this, by chance, I absolutely loved it. It's such a beautiful poem, gives me shivers every time I read it


	7. A Challenging Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a romantic interlude, it's back to the realities of parenthood.
> 
> thanks to @soinspiredbyyou @happytoobserve @wickedgoodbooks for their help and support and to you all for reading and commenting.

_Poor Elizabeth. My heart aches for her, for I am sure all that carping bitterness makes her wretched. I dare say it is only physical: liver perhaps, or acidity._ – E. F. Benson _Mapp and Lucia_

Claire hurriedly gathered up her curls, still damp from the shower, and tied them in a messy bun as she made her way downstairs.

She found Jamie slumped at the kitchen table, large mug of coffee in one hand. The other hand was rhythmically bouncing William’s baby seat, positioned in the centre of the table. He stopped momentarily to run his fingers through his hair. William whimpered, frustrated at the cessation of the bouncing. He kicked his legs and waved his arms wildly, screwing up his face in preparation for a loud display of his general dissatisfaction.

Jamie sighed and resumed the bouncing, temporarily placating the baby.

Claire kissed them both. “Morning, loves.”

Jamie growled. “Is it? I canna say it’s been the best night round here. William’s been awfa fractious. He wouldna settle in his cot. In the end I gave up and brought him down here. I dinna ken how people manage with this every night, or with more than one bairn. What time is it?”

Claire glanced at the kitchen clock, which was clearly visible. “Seven thirty.”

Jamie yawned. “I gave him some Calpol about an hour ago. Do ye think he’s too hot? Or is he too cold? Doctor him, Sassenach.”

Claire pressed her lips to William’s forehead. “His temperature’s fine, Jamie. He’s got a bit of a cold. The Calpol will have regulated his temperature. And he’s getting upset because when he tries to self soothe with his thumb, he can’t breathe. Hang on.”

She briefly left the kitchen before returning with a small box which she handed to Jamie. “It’s a syringe bulb. Squeeze it, put it carefully up William’s nostril, then release. The mucus will be sucked into the bulb. Empty it into a tissue, rinse and repeat.”

“That sounds gross Sassenach. Can ye no’ do it? Ye’re a-“

“Do not say woman, James Fraser.”

“Actually, I was going tae say doctor,” Jamie replied curtly. 

“Jamie, you’ll be fine. You know, contrary to popular belief, some doctors don’t actually like dealing with stuff like this. Man up. This is only the first of many gross things you will have to do as a parent. Get used to it. Plenty of fluids, try and go for a walk, give him some fresh air and you nap when he does.”

“If he does,” Jamie complained in an undertone.

Claire ignored his last comment and headed for the door. “And I will see you later. I’ve got two complex primary hip replacements waiting for me at the hospital.”

Jamie yawned again. 

“Ye dinna have tae sound so happy about it,” he called as she disappeared from view.

**************  
Claire gingerly poked her head around the living room door.

“How is everybody?”

Jamie raised his head slightly from his prone position on the sofa. William lay dozing on his chest, his breathing punctuated by a series of sniffs and snores.

“I’m no’ going tae lie. It’s no’ been the best day, Sassenach. We’ve watched ‘Homes Under the Hammer,’ ‘Bargain Hunt’ and two Columbo films. I tried tae go fer a walk, but he wouldna settle in his pram and I couldna get that baby harness thingie on me. Last feed he sicked it back up on me, but he wouldna let me put him down to change ma shirt. I’m bursting fer a piss but he’s like a limpet on me. And…”

Jamie winced and moved his hand over William’s, loosening the baby’s grasp. “... he’s just started pulling at ma chest hair. And he’s got an awfa fierce grip.”

Claire looked down at Jamie. He did look worn out, she admitted to herself, but no worse than plenty of new parents she had seen. His hair was standing on end, the lack of sleep was clear from the purple smudges under his eyes, and there was an undeniable odour of baby sick around him. Parenthood had taken its toll today.

“Why don’t you go and freshen up? I’ll look after William.”

“Are ye sure? Ye’ll have had a hard day too, cutting intae people.”

“I’m positive.” Claire sniffed. “And have a shower too.”

Jamie slowly sat up. William, now being cruelly deprived of his comfortable pillow, opened his eyes, screwed up his face and, after a couple of preliminary moans, began to cry very loudly.

“Here, let me have him.”

Jamie made no argument as Claire took the baby from him and rocked gently from side to side. The crying immediately stopped. From over her shoulder, William watched his father get up and move to the door. A half hearted cry caused Jamie to hesitate.

“Go on,” Claire urged. “He’s fine. He’s just playing you. He knows who the soft touch is around here. Don’t you, William? You think your daddy is here just for your amusement.”

William snorted as if in agreement before contentedly biting at Claire’s shoulder.

“By the way, Geneva said she would pick William up in a bit. Save me having tae drive over there.”

“Well, well,” Claire whispered in William’s ear as Jamie left the room. “Looks like Mummy is actually trying to be helpful.”

*********  
Claire held William -- apparently intent on trying to fit the whole of his elephant rattle into his mouth -- in one arm, while she checked her messages on her phone with her free hand. She noticed several missed calls from Geillis.

“What’s up with Auntie G, then, hey?” She muttered against William’s head.

As she began to text her friend, the doorbell rang. 

“Shi- shoot! Mummy’s a bit early and Da’s not here.” 

Claire lifted William and carried him to the door.

“Will ye let me the fuck in?” Geillis’s muffled voice came through as Claire, surprised to hear her friend’s voice, struggled to balance William while unlocking the door.

“Well, William, that’s a very naughty word from your Auntie G.” Claire joked as she kissed Geillis’s proffered cheek.

“Dinna be joking and putting on that special baby voice.” Geillis was clearly in no mood for levity. “I need help, Claire. I need tae talk tae ye. Can Jamie no’ mind his bairn?”

“Ouch, G. Too much.” Claire chided gently.

“Sorry.” Geillis moved into the living room. “I’m in a bit of a state, tae be honest.”

Claire secured William in his baby seat, ignoring his whimper of protest. “Won’t work with me matey, I’m not your Da. Take it out on your elephant.”

She shook the rattle encouragingly and turned to Geillis. “What is it? Didn’t you have lunch today with Dougal? Is there something the matter with him?”

Geillis gave a fake laugh. “Aye, ye could say that. He wants us tae have a baby together. I mean, a baby… Christ… can ye imagine me wi’ a bairn?”

Geillis looked down at William and closed her eyes. “Fer God’s sake, he’s already got two daughters wi’ his ex. How many more bairns does he need? And they’re seventeen and fifteen now… and he wants tae do that all again?”

Claire took Geillis’s hands in hers. “G, this is not an easy situation. You need to think carefully about this. Any choice you make has got to be right for you… it’s a huge decision, having a baby.” Claire paused, thinking about the irony of her last statement. “Or at least it should be.”

“But what if it’s a deal breaker? What if Dougal doesn’t want tae carry on if I dinna have a bairn? Should I have a bairn fer him?”

“A baby won’t heal a relationship, G. You know that. You’ve got to both want it. You can’t be having a baby just because you’re afraid of losing him. And if you have a baby, will you be resentful of Dougal putting you in that position?”

Geillis sat quietly for a moment, nervously pulling at her cuticles. The silence was broken by William, fed up with being ignored, who emitted a loud screech. Now confident he had Claire’s attention, he resumed sucking his rattle.

The sound pulled Geillis out of her reverie. “Oh, fer fuck’s sake. I must sound like Geneva… thinking about having a bairn tae keep a man. What is happening tae me?”

“G, listen to me. There is no way you are like Geneva. For a start you are in a serious relationship with Dougal, not a one night thing. And it’s Dougal who wants a baby. Geneva was the one who wanted the baby, not Jamie. And Geneva tricked and lied to try to get what she wanted. So, unless Dougal starts sticking pins into condoms, you’re safe."

Geillis blanched then sniffed and pulled a tissue out from her cleavage. Blowing her nose, she began to talk. “Aye, I guess ye’re right --“

The doorbell interrupted Geillis.

“Oh no,” Claire exclaimed. “That’ll be Geneva now… and Jamie’s still in the shower.”

“So, is this some kind of Beetlejuice situation? Ye say her name three times and she appears?”

Lifting William out of his chair, Claire made her way into the hall.

“Jamie,” she shouted up the stairs. “Geneva’s here.”

A muffled voice responded. “I’ll be right down. Give me two minutes.”

Geneva was her usual polished self, Claire noted as she stood on the doorstep, having obviously benefitted from a good night’s babyless sleep. 

With a formal “good afternoon” Geneva stepped into the hall, took William from Claire and cuddled him tightly.

“Oh, Mummy missed you so much,” she whispered.

“Come into the living room. Jamie’s just having a quick shower,” Claire explained. “It’s been a tough day for him… with William feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Glad he’s experiencing the reality of fatherhood,” Geneva responded as Claire led the way in.

“This is my friend, Geillis, and this is-“ Claire made the introductions.

Geneva interrupted. “Hello, I’m Geneva… I’m the mother of Jamie’s son.”

“Aye, I ken who ye are… and I’m the best friend of Jamie's fiancée. We were just having a wee chat about the wedding and the plans. I dinna ken, there’s something tae be said for summer weddings, but then an autumn one would be grand or a Christmas wedding would be awfa bonny with snow on the ground. What do ye think? So many decisions. Still whichever Claire and Jamie choose, it’s bound tae be special, I’m sure. And as maid of honour I’m here tae make it all run smoothly. Have ye seen the ring? Jamie must have taken a while choosing that…”

Geillis seemed to be unstoppable in her monologue about planning the wedding and the engagement, not allowing Geneva any way into the conversation. Claire could see Geneva’s face grow darker as Geillis’s onslaught continued.

“Now, the dress… weel…”

At that moment, Jamie stepped into the room. Geneva immediately interrupted Geillis.

“Jamie, have you got all William’s stuff? Please take it to the car. And tell me all about his illness… Geillis, sorry I must dash.”

“Och, that’s ok. It was grand tae meet ye, Genevieve.”

Claire blew William a kiss as Geneva followed Jamie outside.

“That was fun!” Geillis remarked to Claire. “I was verra nice tae her, do ye no’ think?”

“Classic passive aggressive, G.”

“Weel, she deserved it. She pissed me off the way she introduced herself.” Geillis glanced at her watch. “Actually I must go now too.”

“Ok, well take care,” Claire wrapped her arms around her friend and gave her a big hug. “Please think about this carefully, and talk to Dougal. You need to tell him what you’re feeling.”

“Aye, ye’re right. Love ye, Claire.”

“Love you too,” Claire burst out laughing. “Oh goodness, I just realised. You called her Genevieve. She’ll hate that.”

Geillis gave a big swooping bow. “My work here is done. Bye.”

****************

Jamie lay in bed and watched Claire, at the dressing table, rubbing moisturiser into her face.

“Sassenach, I’m so tired. How do parents do this day after day? At least I ken I’ve a few days tae recover now.”

“You do it because you have to… and because they may be smelly, annoying, demanding little creatures but you love them… and they’re worth it.”

“Aye,” Jamie smiled. “He’s worth it right enough. Now, Sassenach, am I worth it? Come and give yer man a cuddle.”

Claire slipped under the covers and snuggled close to Jamie, her head rested on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, fingers automatically stroking the reddish gold curls there.

“Can I ask ye something, Sassenach?”

Claire nodded.

“I ken ye want bairns, but we’ve never really said when or how many. So?”

Claire pulled away to look at his face. “I don’t know really… two I guess. That’s usual nowadays, isn’t it?”

“Aye, two would be grand...or three mebbe.”

“Let’s see.”

“But when do ye want tae try, Sassenach?”

“Not for a while. William’s so small. Do you really want two babies in nappies?”

“Nah, ye’re right. No’ just yet, but promise me Sassenach, can we keep up with the practice in the meantime?”

Claire kissed him firmly on the lips. 

“Aye,” she mimicked. “I promise.”


	8. A Discontented Minor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once more for all your support with this story. It's great reading all the comments!  
Thanks as always to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve @wickedgoodbooks for their support and encouragement. I do appreciate it
> 
> So perhaps it's time for William to visit Lallybroch with his extended family...
> 
> Hope you enjoy

_“Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.” _

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, _The Little Prince_

Jamie finished typing a message and pressed send as Ian wandered into his office.

“So, are ye ready fer Jenny tae come back tae work next week, then?” Jamie asked, motioning for Ian to sit.

“Aye, weel, I think it’ll be a wee bit hectic at first getting the kids tae nursery and pre-school, but I can tell she’s itching tae come back. And it’s a good time tae do it, with the marketing campaign in Japan tae sort out. Which is why I’m here… dinna forget tae sign off the budget fer the campaign, will ye?”

“I’ll do it now…” Jamie glanced at his phone. “Ah, she’s opened the message… wait fer it… five… four… three… two…”

His mobile phone started to ring. Ian made to get up, but Jamie motioned for him to stay as he answered the phone. 

“Hello.” 

From the look of exasperation on Jamie’s face, it was clear to whom he was speaking. The one sided conversation continued.

“Aye weel, I wasna actually asking fer yer permission. I was telling ye out of courtesy which is more than ye do when visiting with yer mother down in England --”

“It’s on ma time with him, Geneva. It’s no’ affecting ye at all. We drive up on Saturday and come back on Tuesday.”

Ian could see Jamie growing tenser as he listened to Geneva’s unwarranted concerns. His fingers tapped against the desk.

“Christ, it’s Lallybroch. It’s no’ the wilderness. There are doctors there, ye ken. And Claire’s coming too.”

Jamie rolled his eyes at Ian.

“Dinna be daft. I’m no’ taking him mountain climbing or such like. That’s the end of discussion, Geneva. I will pick him up on Friday as arranged. Goodbye.”

Jamie put the phone down and breathed deeply.

Ian smiled. “Tough call?”

“That woman, I swear. Thinking I need her permission tae take ma son away fer a weekend. And I’m sure she thinks Lallybroch is some sort of shack in the middle of nowhere with no running water and an outdoor privy.”

“Ye never took her tae Lallybroch, did ye?”

“Nah, only Claire.” Jamie paused for a moment, thinking back to that first visit. “So, are ye driving up on Saturday too?”

“Aye,” Ian laughed. “Jenny wants us tae be on the road afore eight o’clock. I canna see that meself.”

“Me neither. I never realised how much more complicated everything is with a bairn.”

*****************  
“Sassenach,” Jamie called to Claire as he finished loading up the car. “Do ye reckon we’ve got everything we need?”

Claire emerged from the house carrying William in his car seat. “Think you’ve got everything you need for six months, let alone a weekend. Just one thing missing…” she passed the car seat over to Jamie.

William let out a high pitched squeal before he resumed sucking the sodden ear of his plush dog. Jamie blew a raspberry against his cheek and secured him in the back of the car.

As Jamie climbed into the driver’s seat, he checked one more time. “Are ye sure we havena forgotten anything?”

Claire sighed. “If you’re that worried, why not check the list that Geneva sent you?”

Jamie shook his head. “Definitely no’. If she sees that I’ve opened it, she’ll think I canna cope, that I need her tae tell me how tae care fer ma son. And that isna going tae happen.”

Somewhat later than planned, they left the suburbs of Glasgow, away from the city traffic and towards quieter roads and fresher air. There were the usual caravans and motorhomes dawdling along -- tourists trying to navigate the roads and take in the wonderful scenery at the same time. Jamie made no effort to overtake them but kept a leisurely pace too, his mind partly on the road but also on the weekend ahead. 

There were so many things he wanted to show William: the tree he used to climb as a boy; the thicket where he used to hide from grown ups; the little cave that became his and Ian’s den (with absolutely no girls allowed,_ ‘that means ye too, Jenny Fraser_’); the secret glen where he went swimming. He knew, of course, that William wouldn’t be able to remember any of this, but he wanted these places and the atmosphere of Lallybroch to be part of William… to be in his blood.

There was also another thought playing on his mind. As the sun finally peeped out from behind a cloud, Jamie pulled into his favourite stopping place. He climbed out of the car and stretched before walking around to check on William, who was fast asleep. Claire came and stood next to him. Jamie put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“Sassenach, afore we get tae Lallybroch, there’s something I want tae discuss. This weekend with Da and Jenny and, weel, everyone, I want us tae start planning our wedding. I mean, actual planning wi’ real dates. But there’s one thing that’s fer us two tae decide and no one else. And that’s where we have it.”

Claire placed a hand on Jamie’s chest as he continued. 

“I ken ye like Kelvingrove Art Gallery. We could get married there or -”

“Lallybroch.” Claire spoke decisively.

“What?”

“Lallybroch,” She repeated. “Can we get married at Lallybroch?”

“Are ye sure? Ye’re no’ jes’ saying that fer me?”

“No… for me. I want us to be married at Lallybroch. Do you think your father will let us?”

“Let us? Sassenach, Da’ll be thrilled, truly.”

“Well, come on, let’s carry on and see how far we can get before William wakes up.”

***********  
It was a very relieved Jamie and Claire that arrived at Lallybroch some time later. The rest of the journey, initially, had been wonderful, with William asleep and the sun shining down. Then the weather and the baby both went downhill. As the clouds started to gather, William woke up. 

To begin with, he was content to amuse himself by making a variety of squeals and babbles and gnawing on his toy dog, but by the time the rain began to lash at the car’s windscreen William was getting decidedly fed up and made his feelings known loudly and clearly.

As Jamie carried William into the kitchen, his cries subsided to a series of small sobs and sniffles. With his lower lip jutting out in a decided sulk, he was in no mood to greet his waiting family. He buried his face into his father’s neck.

“Look William,” Jamie said encouragingly as he turned the baby around. “Here’s Grandda and Murtagh come tae say hello.”

William looked at Brian briefly before turning his attention to Murtagh. He reached his arms out and firmly grabbed Murtagh’s beard. He gave a happy chuckle as Murtagh took him from Jamie, the baby refusing to release his grip on the beard.

Jamie turned to Brian. “Who’d have thought it? Our Murtagh’s a regular Mary Poppins.”

*************  
The pandemonium that comes with the arrival of four adults, one little boy, one toddler, one baby, and all the associated luggage eventually died down and some semblance of calm was restored at Lallybroch.

“Come along, Jamie. Intae the kitchen wi’ ye. It’s tea time.” Jenny tried to attract the attention of her son as she strapped Maggie into the old wooden high chair, previously occupied by several generations of Fraser children.

Claire sat with William in her arms as Jamie prepared his bottle.

Wee Jamie stomped into the kitchen, a look of fury on his face.

“I’m no’ a wee bairn. I wanna eat wi’ the growed ups, no’ the babies,” he informed his mother.

“Och no, that’s too late fer ye. Well past yer bedtime.” Jenny put a cushion on a chair and motioned for him to sit. “Ye’ll eat yer pasta now please, young man.”

With a scowl on his face, Wee Jamie sat and began to eat. Jenny sat next to Maggie and spooned pasta into her mouth while Maggie dived into the bowl with her hands, enjoying the feel of the food between her fingers. 

Jamie settled himself next to Claire as she fed William. The adults began to talk.

“I canna believe how big Maggie is getting. She’s enjoying that food, right enough.”

“Aye and she no’ far off walking now. There’ll be no stopping her.”

“With William no’ far behind. Did I tell ye, Claire’s bought him a Scotland rugby shirt? We keep it at our house. I’m no’ sure Geneva would like it…”

As they carried on their conversation, Wee Jamie began dragging his spoon along his plate, trying to make as much noise as possible in protest. His mother gave him a warning stare. Wee Jamie watched his sister, now smearing sauce around her mouth. However, his mother and uncle and even Claire seemed to find Maggie amusing. He tutted.

Finally the children’s dinner was over. Jenny attacked her son’s hands and face with a washcloth. 

“Now ye can go and play. Go find yer Da. We’ll see tae the babies’ bath and bed and then it’ll be time fer yer story afore bed. Ok?” Jenny kissed her son’s cheek as he quickly got off the chair and ran out of the room.

Jenny, with an efficiency born of years of practice, and Jamie, with somewhat less efficiency, handled the bathing of Maggie and William together in the large roll top bath and put them to sleep in adjacent cots in the spare bedroom designated by Brian as the nursery.

Jenny now turned her attention to Wee Jamie and called for him to come and prepare for bed. With no response from her son, Jenny quickly moved from room to room before hurrying downstairs to Ian who was chatting with Brian, Murtagh and Claire.

“Is Jamie wi’ ye?” she asked, quickly looking around.

Ian looked up from his conversation. “I assume ye mean our son, no’ yer brother. He was here a while ago and then wandered off. I asked if he was going tae find ye and he agreed.”

“Well, he’s not answering me.” A thought crossed Jenny’s mind and the colour drained from her face. “He’s no’ gone out has he? I ken he likes tae go tae the field where the horses are, but he kens fine well he canna do that on his own.”

Brian got up and laid a hand on Jenny’s shoulders. “Dinna fash. The doors are locked. He’s around the house somewhere… probably laughing his wee socks off.”

“I’ll help Jamie look upstairs, shall I?” Claire slipped out of the room and headed upstairs.

As she poked her head around the door to Jamie’s room, Jamie was sitting on the end of the bed. Without making a sound, he put on a mime show -- pointing under the bed, putting his fingers to his lips and then pointing at Claire before making a walking motion with his fingers. Claire understood and backed out of the room.

Jamie heard her going downstairs and started to talk. “Aye, weel, Sassenach, ye ken when I was a wee lad and dinna want tae be bothered wi’ people, I’d hide under ma bed. Once I hid under there so long I missed a batch of chocolate brownies that Mrs Crook had baked. I came out tae find Jenny had eaten ma share. But then it served her right, she got awfa sick in the night with tummy ache and…”

He paused as he heard a snigger from under the bed before resuming. “But, Sassenach, it was no’ so nice under the bed and it got awfa lonely down there. No-one tae talk tae, no books, no toys, jes’ me and the dust bunnies makin’ me sneeze.”

Another snigger came from under the bed, followed by a small voice. “That’s silly, Unca Jamie. There’s no bunnies here.”

“Sorry, I thought I heard something…”

“It’s me, Unca.” A rather dusty little boy slowly emerged alongside Jamie’s feet.

“Aye, so it is. So, Jamie, would ye mind telling me why ye decided tae hide under the bed and no’ answer yer Mam?”

His nephew looked down, wiped his hands against his trousers and muttered something.

Jamie scooted up the bed to rest his back against the headboard and patted the bed next to him. “Come here and talk tae me.” 

Wee Jamie clambered next to Jamie and sat beside him, mirroring his uncle’s posture, legs stretched out with ankles crossed, hands in his lap.

“Ye willna understand.” Wee Jamie pouted.

“Try me. Why did ye hide?”

“I dinna ken if anyone’d notice. Mam and Da and ye, Unca, ye’ve got the babies. Ye’re always minding them. And Grandda and Murtagh were talking about work.”

“So ye felt left out, is that it?”

Wee Jamie nodded. His uncle put his arm around him. “Ah, lad, I’m sorry if I made ye feel that way, and I dare say it seems tae ye that William and Maggie take a lot of looking after but it will get better, I promise. I’m still learning how tae be William’s Da, ye ken, so sometimes it takes me longer tae do things wi’ him. And soon the three of ye will be able to play together and Maggie and William will look up tae ye as the big boy.”

“I’ll be the boss?” A small smile crept onto Wee Jamie’s face.

“Aye, ye’ll be the boss. Just like yer mam was with me.”

“Da says she still is.” 

Jamie laughed. “Ye’re no’ wrong there. And how about tomorrow, when I go fer a walk, ye come wi’ me?”

His nephew’s face lit up. “Jes’ ye and me?”

“Weel, I have tae be honest. William will come too in the baby carrier. We have tae show him around, but ye can help me. And I need somebody more grown up tae talk to and tae skim stones with. What do ye say?”

A half-hearted cry suddenly came from the baby monitor next to Jamie. The little boy tensed, waiting for his uncle to abandon the conversation. It took all of Jamie’s willpower not to go and check on William, but he realised how important this was to his namesake. So he stayed still and waited, feeling his nephew relax once more.

“OK, then. If ye need me tae help ye.”

Claire peered around the door. Jamie beckoned her in and she joined them on the bed, the grown ups sandwiching the little boy between them. She nodded at Jamie. 

“Actually, lad,” Jamie began. “There is something else ye can help us with too. Ye ken me and yer Auntie are planning on getting married this year, don’t ye? Weel, we need someone tae be the ring bearer at the wedding…”

“The bear?” Wee Jamie looked puzzled.

Jamie laughed. “No’ the bear… the bearer. It means someone whose job it is tae carry the rings and keep them safe at the wedding. And Claire and I want ye to do that.”

“Me ‘n’ the babies?” 

“No, Jamie.” Claire joined in the conversation. “Just you on your own. It’s an important job. Would you do that for us, please?”

Wee Jamie pretended to be deep in thought, rubbing his grubby hand across his face. “Aye, Unca, Care bear, if ye need me, I will.”

“Thanks, lad.” Jamie ruffled his nephew’s hair. .

“Unca, will I stand next tae ye?”

“Aye, ye will. All the lassies will be lookin’ at us in our fine kilts.”

Jamie’s face fell. “I havena got a kilt.”

“Dinna fash. We’ll get ye a whole outfit. Now go and tell yer Mam the news… and get yerself a bath. Ye’re a filthy wee gomeril.”

Wee Jamie grinned as he ran out of the bedroom to find his mother.


	9. A Nuptial Intention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another weekend, another chapter.  
Thank you all for reading and sticking with it x
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their continued support
> 
> this chapter is not really nsfw, just a wee bit suggestive.
> 
> Hope you enjoy

_Mary: You are exquisite. You're timeless. And you have the love of a man named Steve. A man who, while you were away having meetings about mozzarella, said to me: 'I can't believe she picked me. I can't believe I'm marrying the most incredible woman I've ever met.' So that tells me that this marriage of yours is not only gonna work, it's gonna last forever._  
-The Wedding Planner

The sun was just beginning to set as, with stomachs full of Mrs. Crook’s chicken casserole and apple pie, they made their way outside to sit by the fire pit that Murtagh had prepared. Jenny and Claire wrapped tartan blankets around themselves as protection from the chill of a typical Scottish summer’s evening. The post-prandial whisky they were all freely drinking also helped to fuel their internal heating systems.

“Is this the whisky that we’re launching in Japan?” Jenny swirled the amber liquid around her glass before sniffing it and taking a large sip.

“Aye,” Brian responded. “What ye’ll be working on when ye come back tae work.”

“I’ve loved ma time at home with the bairns but I’m ready fer work now, and the Japanese launch sounds so exciting. Ian was telling me about the advertising agency and --“

Brian laughed. “No shop talk this evening, lass. Ye’ll join us fer our meeting Monday morning, then?”

Jenny hesitated and glanced across at Claire. 

“No, go Jenny. Seriously, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Actually I’ll look after the kids for you, if you want.”

“Ye want tae look after all three children? On yer own?” Murtagh smiled.

“Nah, only two. I’m taking William intae the distillery wi’ me. I want tae show him round, ye ken.”

“Show him off, more like.” Murtagh commented.

“Aye, weel, why don’t we all go in Monday morning?” Brian joined in. “Claire can mind the bairns for a while, if that’s alright, while we have the meeting. Then we can all have a bite tae eat in our new café, see what we think about it. Sounds good?”

There was a general murmur of agreement. Brian rubbed his hands together. “Right, it’s a plan.”

Jamie watched Claire, sitting on the other side of the fire pit, next to Jenny. She shifted in her chair and tucked her feet under her bottom with the blanket tight around her. The firelight played with the natural highlights in her hair, glimpses of gold and auburn amongst the brown. Her whisky eyes gazed into the fire, unfocused, dreaming. Those whisky eyes, Jamie thought. Whisky eyes… 

He filed that thought away for Monday’s meeting and brought his attention back to what he really wanted to discuss with his family.

“Speaking of plans…” Jamie began as he felt Claire’s gaze switch to him, burning as hot as the fire. “... er… plans, aye. Claire and I would like tae get married this year. Here at Lallybroch.”

“That’s great news.” Brian was genuinely pleased. “But, Claire, is that what ye want? Dinna do it tae please us. It’s yer day, after all.”

“It was my idea, Brian. I would love to be married here at Lallybroch.”

“As long as it’s what ye want. So, we’ll need tae hire a marquee. When were ye thinking of having it?” Brian pulled his phone out of his pocket and started rolling through screens, hunting for the calendar. “Time’s pushing on fer this year, ye ken. It’s July now.”

“You hire a marquee for the Hallowe’en party every year, don’t you?” Claire looked over at Jamie. Memories of that party ran through her mind. Instinctively, she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Jamie smiled softly, her glass face making her thoughts obvious to him.

“Ye’re no’ thinking about a Halloween-themed wedding, are ye?” Murtagh’s blunt question brought Claire back to the present. 

“Weel, I dinna think we have tae look verra far for a witch, ye ken,” Jenny muttered.

Murtagh burst out laughing. “Ye’re no’ wrong there.”

“We thought tae have the wedding the week before the Halloween party, then that gives time for the marquee tae be redressed with pumpkins and cobwebs. And if Isobel could take William back tae Geneva on Sunday, then Claire and I could have a week’s honeymoon somewhere, providing she lets me change ma days with him.”

“And we’ve already asked Jamie to be the ring bearer.” 

“Aye, I ken. He was that proud. He’s going tae wear a kilt wi’ the men and stand at the front wi’ his Da and his Uncle… that’s what he said.” Jenny hesitated. “Och, sorry, that sounded awfa presumptuous there, about Ian. I mean, I…”

“Weel, I’m sorry Jenny but…” Jamie paused for a second before a broad smile crossed his face as he looked across at his oldest friend. “Dinna fash. Of course I want ma childhood friend tae be ma best man. So Ian, will ye do me that honour?”

“Weel, I’m no’ really sure. I may no’ be available on that day.” Ian returned Jamie’s smile. “Joking. Of course, I would be honoured tae stand by yer side. Thank ye.”

Brian raised his glass. “I think this call fer a toast. Tae Claire and Jamie… slainté.”

As the fire died down, blankets and whisky were no longer enough to ward off the chill of the night. With silent agreement, they all gathered up glasses, blankets and, in Jamie’s case, empty biscuit wrappers, and headed for bed.

Murtagh walked alongside Claire and, with a hand on her arm, pulled her back from the others. 

“Jes’ wanted tae check on ye. Are ye alright... wi’ Jamie taking William intae the distillery tae show him off? I dinna want ye tae be upset or…” he looked slightly uncomfortable with his display of concern.

Claire smiled. “Murtagh, thank you but I’m fine with it. Truly. I wouldn’t want Jamie to treat William any differently than he would any child we’ll have. And I know this is exactly what he will do with them. So don’t you worry about me… but I do appreciate it.”

“As long as ye’re alright, lass. Our Jamie can sometimes be a wee bit headstrong, ye ken. Let me tell ye, ye’re the best thing that could have happened tae him. And tae get married here at Lallybroch. It’s jes’ wonderful. His Mam would have loved it.” 

And with that Murtagh reached in his pocket for a handkerchief and quickly walked off ahead of Claire, back into the house.

****************

Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny with not a cloud in sight. With six adults and three children to feed, breakfast was a slightly chaotic event. Jamie sat and gave William his bottle while Claire made toast topped with Mrs. Crook’s home-made raspberry jam. Ian took wee Jamie upstairs for teeth cleaning and a wash.

Jenny sat with Maggie, sharing a bowl of porridge. “Ye still taking ma son fer a walk this morning, man tae man?”

Jamie nodded as William gave a soft milky belch in agreement.

“He’s verra excited tae go with ye. He’s been thinking about yer wedding and has some suggestions fer ye. I’m no’ sure quite what they are but Ian’s been reading a lot about cowboys tae him. Jes’ warning ye.”

Claire excused herself and left Jamie and Jenny chatting in the kitchen as she headed back to their bedroom to prepare for the morning.

She came back downstairs to find Jamie alone in the hallway. He caught her arm and backed her against the wood panelling, his body close to hers, one hand resting on the wall either side of her head.

“Where’s William?” Claire looked around.

“Och, Mrs. Crook has dropped by and doesna want tae let hold of the wee man. He’s fine, being royally entertained. She didna approve of ma actions, but is besotted with the result.”

He reddened slightly, remembering the tongue lashing Mrs. Crook had given him on a previous visit. She had drawn herself up to her full five foot one inch height, reaching up to shake her finger at him as she scolded him for his irresponsible behaviour.

“Anyways,” he continued. “What are ye up tae this morning, with those wee denim shorts on and that t-shirt with yer nipples poking through the size of cherries?”

Claire glanced down. “They aren’t poking through, Jamie.”

Jamie moved even closer, placing his legs either side of Claire’s. His breath was hot against her skin, still carrying the scent of strong coffee and sharp raspberry. “Weel, I ken they are no’ at the moment, Sassenach, but if I nibble yer ear jes’ so… and run my tongue around yer sweet lips…”

Claire playfully pushed his chest. “Jamie, no, not here. You’ve promised your nephew a walk and…”

Not discouraged, Jamie continued to lightly kiss along Claire’s collarbone. She reached her fingers into his hair and pulled his head away.

“What is it with you and Lallybroch? Every time we come here, you’re like a sex-starved adolescent.”

“But with a better technique, I hope Sassenach.” He muttered quietly into her ear. “I dinna ken… all I want tae do is take ye tae ma bed and fuck ye. I want ye tae make those wee noises when ye come and then I want tae make ye come again as ye cry out and call ma name. And tae ken that it’s me and only me that does that tae ye, there’s no’ greater feeling than that. Ma cock is hard jes’ thinking about it.”

He ground his hips against her to prove his point.

A small cough came from somewhere behind Jamie.

“Unca, are ye no’ ready fer our walk? Mam has put sun cream on me and William, so we’re ready tae go. Are ye, Unca?”

Jamie took a couple of deep calming breaths before answering.

“Aye, lad. Jes’... er… jes’ give me a moment. I need to have a quick word wi’ yer auntie. Tell yer mam I’ll be there presently.”

As the little boy ran off, Claire dissolved in giggles. Jamie discretely adjusted himself as he pulled away from her and sat on the stairs, still breathing deeply before eventually following his nephew into the kitchen.

“See you later,” Claire called after him. “Looking forward to it.”

**************

With William firmly strapped to Jamie’s chest, Jamie set off on the familiar path to the grove of trees and then onto the nearby pond. His nephew strode alongside, occasionally having to do a quick run to keep up with his uncle. Jamie reduced his stride and slowed down to accommodate the four year old’s legs.

At first they walked together in companionable silence, broken only by the sound of their feet on the well worn path and the occasional squeal from William. He kicked his legs excitedly.

“William likes this.” Wee Jamie commented.

“Aye, he’ll like the feel of the sun on his bare legs. I dinna think he likes his sun hat, mind. But there’s a lot of new sounds and sights fer him to learn.”

“And smells.” Wee Jamie spoke mischievously. “I just did a bottie cough back there.”

“Ah well, better out than in, I dare say.”

As they reached the pond, Jamie’s memories turned to many years before, when Murtagh had taught him how to skim stones. Now it was Jamie’s turn to pass this onto his nephew, and eventually his son.

Under Jamie’s instruction, the little boy scoured the waterside for suitable stones, bringing them to him for approval. With a large enough supply to hand, Jamie crouched behind his nephew, guiding with his hands until, on his own, the little boy managed to set a stone skimming once across the still water.

Flushed with success, Wee Jamie went to join his uncle, now sitting on an old tree trunk.

“That was grand,” the little boy told his uncle. “D’ye think I could teach Maggie and William tae do that?”

“ I dare say ye could. But no’ yet. They’d be too busy trying tae eat the stones, would they no’?”

Wee Jamie sat quietly for a minute, kicking his heels against the tree trunk.

“About yer wedding, Unca, I been thinking. Mebbe ye, me, and Da can arrive on horses… come galloping over the fields.”

“Weel, that's a grand notion. But think about the mess. All the people in their finery treading in the horse shi- poo.”

Wee Jamie giggled. “Ah no, I dinna think about that.”

“And we’ll all be in kilts, ye dinna want yer thighs chafing, do ye? And remember we dinna wear anything under the kilt, we dinna want tae be getting a sore willie either now, do we?”

“I suppose no’... Da says kilts are handy -- ye can stand up and piss anywhere. Can I do that then Unca?”

“Aye lad, and if it’s snowing I’ll teach ye tae write yer name in the snow. Anyway we best be heading back, William’ll soon be wanting his milk.”

Jamie started walking away from the pond with his nephew skipping alongside him. He looked down as Wee Jamie took his hand.

“And remember laddie,” Jamie smiled. “Not a word tae yer mam about the pissing.”

“Nah,” Wee Jamie agreed. “That’s jes’ between us men."


	10. A Photographic Opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite the weekend, but an early posting as I'm away this weekend.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this next chapter. Thanks for continuing to read it.
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou @happytoobserve @wickedgoodbooks for your support

_“I'm no model lady. A model's just an imitation of the real thing.”_ Mae West

Silence filled the car as Jamie drove back to Glasgow. There was only the sound of the regular breathing from Claire, dozing in the passenger seat, and William, napping in the back. He didn’t mind this quiet. It gave him a chance to enjoy the passing scenery and also to process the previous few days.

It had been a most satisfying weekend - in every sense of the word. Jamie chuckled to himself. Claire was right… he did turn into a sex-crazed beast when he was at Lallybroch. Not that Claire seemed to object. In fact, she seemed more than willing to match his appetites, as the bite marks on his groin could bear witness to. It was fortunate that the walls and doors at Lallybroch were solid and practically soundproof with her apparent inability to remain quiet during sex. But that was part of the thrill to him -- when she cried his name, all restraint abandoned, her face contorted with pleasure -- it only made him want her more, made him harder than anyone else ever could…

As he felt his arousal begin, he took several slow, deep breaths and deliberately forced his mind away from images of his Sassenach and towards more neutral topics.

Aye, he always enjoyed his visits to Lallybroch but this one had been extra special -- introducing his son to the place where he grew up, visiting his childhood haunts and taking him to the distillery. William had been fawned over by all the staff as he regaled them with his newly acquired party trick, blowing very loud and very slobbery raspberries. And, whether by reason of tact or ignorance, fortunately no one had made mention of William’s maternal parentage.

He had also managed to mend bridges with his nephew that he never realised were broken. There had always been a close bond between uncle and nephew and Jamie had been so wrapped up with the thrills and anxieties of being a father that he had neglected this bond. At least he’d learnt his lesson on that score.

Planning for the wedding was now finally underway. He just needed to have a conversation with Geneva about flexibility on dates with William. Jamie sighed. Flexibility had never been one of Geneva’s strong points.

And then finally he had to talk to Claire about his idea. The idea that had been discussed and approved at the meeting yesterday. It all depended on her agreement. Jamie wasn’t sure which way that would go.

Claire stirred and looked around. “I must’ve been dozing for a good while. We’ll soon be home.”

Jamie smiled. No matter how many times he heard it, he still thrilled when Claire mentioned home… their home, together.

“Aye, no’ long now. I’d best drop ye at home and then I’ll head straight tae Geneva’s and drop William there.” He grimaced. “And I’ll ask about the dates. If we drive up tae Lallybroch on the Friday, have the wedding --”

“Our wedding,” Claire interrupted.

“Our wedding,” Jamie corrected himself. “... have our wedding on the Sunday. Then Isobel can drive William home on the Monday and we can have a honeymoon fer a week. So I’m asking fer William on the Friday not the Tuesday and then no’ till the following Tuesday.”

“Will she be amenable to that?”

”I dinna ken. This is Geneva we’re talking about.”

**********

Jamie was hardly through the door when Geneva snatched William out of his arms and smothered him in kisses.

“Oh Mummy missed you so much, angel.” She muttered against his head, his ginger down moving slightly with her breath. “Have you had a nice time, then?”

William smiled and blew a very loud and wet raspberry.

Jamie laughed. “His new party trick. I’m sure he thinks he’s verra clever.”

“Hmm, not the nicest thing, I must admit.” Geneva looked down at the shoulder of her satin blouse, now splattered with William’s drool.

Geneva led the way into her living room with Jamie following.

“So, I’ll see you on Sunday evening for pick up then,” Geneva began.

“Aye, But there’s something I want tae discuss with ye.” Jamie hurriedly continued, anxious lest Geneva begin jumping to conclusions. “It’s about the date fer my and Claire’s wedding. We’re having it at Lallybroch, and I was wondering if we could move some dates when I have William around in October, so that the bairn can be at the ceremony and then mebbe Isobel could bring him back tae ye while Claire and I have a week’s honeymoon.”

Geneva thought for a moment before speaking. “You need to email me the dates you are talking about and then I’ll think about it. But, you know, it’s funny, you were the one who got lawyers involved, who wanted your access to William clearly defined. And now you want to start changing things around.”

Jamie clenched his fists behind his back, letting his nails dig into his palms, forcing himself to remain calm. He tried to keep his voice level. “I got lawyers involved because as ye well ken, ye were keeping me from seeing ma son. I’m no’ just asking ye tae be awkward… tae change dates on a whim. This is ma wedding and ma honeymoon I’m trying tae plan.”

Geneva shrugged. “Like I said, send me the dates and I’ll think about it.”

She turned away, the conversation obviously at an end. Jamie kissed William on the head and quickly left.

***************  
Jamie came up behind Claire as she leant into the fridge and with his hands on her hips, he bent over and kissed the back of her neck.

Without turning around, she immediately responded. “Not much in. I can do us some bacon and eggs for dinner, if you like.”

Jamie pulled away, pretending to be disappointed. “Aw, how did you know it was me, Sassenach?”

Claire finally turned around, her hands now full of dinner ingredients. “Because…” she stood on tiptoes and kissed his nose. “... my other blokes always knock twice before coming in. To check if the coast is clear, you understand.”

“I dinna think ye can manage any other blokes after the weekend we’ve had, aye?” Jamie tried to wink suggestively, which turned into more of an exaggerated blink.

She put the bacon and eggs on the counter top and wound her arms around his waist, running her hands over the contours of his back. She rested her head against his chest. He smelt of cologne and fabric conditioner with a hint of baby and another smell that was uniquely Jamie. She wondered idly whether it was that that kept her wanting him… pheromones. But she knew it was more than that between them… their bodies, their personalities, their souls all inextricably linked together.

“I know. I’ve told them not to bother me. I need time to recover from you this weekend.” Claire joked. 

“And I ye, ye vixen. Ye marked me well, ye ken.”

Claire shrugged, gave a fully perfected wink and turned back to the hob.

********

After a hastily put together dinner, Claire relaxed on the sofa, flicking between television channels as Jamie carried two mugs of tea and two slices of Mrs. Crook’s Dundee cake into the living room. 

Settling himself next to her, he asked. “Can we turn it off, please? There’s a couple of things we need tae discuss.”

Claire turned to face him and waited.

“I’ve asked Geneva about moving dates around…” he began then hesitated.

“And?” Claire prompted.

“Weel, she said she would consider it and I should send her the dates, but ye ken, Sassenach, I’m worried. Even if she agrees now, what’s tae stop her changing her mind when all the arrangements have been made, jes’ tae make it difficult fer us?”

“Would she do that, do you think?”

“I dinna ken. Even if she wouldn’t, I think she’d like tae have that hanging over us. Mebbe she’d like that control knowing she could change her mind and ruin our plans. It’s a question of how much do we want tae risk it.”

“And how much do you want to risk it?”

“Personally, I dinna want tae risk it at all. I can imagine what it’d be like every time I picked William up or dropped him off… ‘ooh yes Jamie, remind me again what were those dates. I must remember not to go away then…’ and her thinking we’d have tae play any little game she wanted. But this is yer wedding too, Sassenach. I want ye tae be happy with any decisions we make. So, what do ye think? What should we do?”

Claire took a bite of cake and washed it down with a swig of tea as she considered Jamie’s views. “I want to be able to enjoy these next few months, not have to worry about what Geneva may or may not do. And if that means having a shorter honeymoon, so be it. I will not have her thinking she has control over us. Although --”

“I ken what ye’re going tae say. She’ll think she has control making us change our plans now. But I’ll live with that, she canna hold it over us for months.”

“So, if we drive to Lallybroch with William on Friday, have the wedding --”

“Our wedding, Sassenach, is it no’?” Jamie interrupted with a grin.

“OK, point taken… ‘our’ wedding on the Sunday, come home Monday and drop William off at nursery on Tuesday morning, we can still have a honeymoon until Sunday evening. That’s six days.”

“Five nights, dinna forget.” He waggled his eyebrows comically.

“Me...forget? Never.” Claire responded as she reached up and stroked his cheek, enjoying the rasp of the beard growth against her palm. She kissed him lightly before pulling back.

Not content with the fleeting touch of her lips against his, Jamie leant into Claire and returned the kiss, gently at first before capturing her lower lip between his teeth and then teasingly running his tongue around her lips. She moaned softly as he traced a path of butterfly kisses from her mouth down her neck. She shivered as he reached the soft skin behind her earlobe.

“Jamie, don’t distract me,” she said, laughing. “You said you had a couple of things to discuss. What was the other?”

“Mmm?” Jamie continued nibbling her ear.

Claire pulled away. “You had something else to discuss?”

“What… tae… er… discuss?” It took Jamie a few moments to remember their conversation. “Oh, aye… weel… it’s just an idea I had. Ye ken, we’re launching our new whisky in Japan, and Ian’s planning the marketing campaign?”

Claire nodded and shifted in her seat to sit cross legged, her back against the arm of the sofa, facing Jamie. He took her hand, idly playing with her engagement ring as he looked into her eyes.

“I was thinking… yer eyes are sae beautiful, sae warm and they’re the exact colour of the whisky. Would ye be part of the advertising campaign? The photos? Nae pressure but…” he tailed off, unsure of Claire’s reaction.

For once, he couldn’t read her expressions as she looked down at their hands, her eyelids hiding her eyes from his view. She was silent.

“Have I offended ye? I didna mean tae.”

“No… no… it’s just… I’m not a model. I’m not sure how I’d feel seeing myself in magazines. And what if someone recognised me? I wouldn’t want that.”

“Like I said, there’s no pressure. And I havena spoken tae the advertising agency yet, but it would only be fer the Japanese market and I have this idea of only using yer eyes, the rest of yer face hidden. Sassenach, say the word and I willna mention it again.”

Claire bit her lip and shrugged. “Let me think about it.”


	11. An Ocular Advertisment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, commenting and kudos. It is very encouraging for me. I havent finished writing this story, but I think we are about at the halfway point -ish.  
Hope you enjoy this chapter. Have a great weekend
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for all their support and encouragement

_I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow._

-Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejudice_

When Claire arrived, the hospital coffee shop was already full. Visitors patiently (and some impatiently) awaiting the official ward visiting times were queueing at the counter as the baristas hurriedly prepared lattes and paninis.

Claire sighed as she looked around. Frantic waving from Geillis at a tucked away table caught her eye. She returned the wave and pointed to the queue. Geillis pointed at the table and beckoned Claire over. Relieved, Claire made her way to Geillis, negotiating the tables, people and bags in her way.

"I got ye a ham sandwich and a black coffee. Oh, and a chocolate brownie. Keep yer energy levels up.” 

Claire settled in a chair and gave her friend a grateful smile. “Thanks, G, you’re a lifesaver. Are you not eating?”

Geillis sipped her cup of tea. “Och, I canna eat. Ma belly’s like a washing machine. I’m having the talk wi’ Dougal tonight. I canna put it off any longer. And I’m that nervous.”

Claire gave Geillis’s hand a comforting pat. “You know what you need to say. Be honest with him, G.”

“Aye, I ken. I’ve thought it through so many times in ma head. I have tae tell him. I dinna want a bairn, at least no’ at this moment and I canna promise that I will ever want one. If he sticks wi’ me thinking I’ll change ma mind, he may be verra disappointed. So the choice is wi' him.”

Geillis's eyes filled with tears as she fumbled in her bag looking for a tissue. Claire passed her a paper napkin and she roughly wiped her eyes before take a couple of deep breaths to control herself.

"Look at me, greetin' like a bairn. Tell me something funny, Claire, tae take ma mind off it. What devilish scheme is Geneva cooking up? Has her mother threatened tae have Jamie's bollocks in a bap?"

“Well, no schemes as far as I know and Jamie’s testicles remain attached to the rest of him but…” 

Claire assumed an elaborate pseudo model pose, her chin resting lightly on her fingers, lips in an exaggerated pout and her eyelashes fluttering.

“...I have been asked to do some modelling.”

"Modelling?" Geillis snorted. "Oh, I'm sorry Claire. I dinna mean tae be rude but I dinna think the catwalks of Milan would be yer cup of tea. Unless, ye havena been asked tae do some… er… nude modelling have ye?"

"Ew, no, of course not."

"I could totally see that."

Claire gave her friend a hard stare.

"What I mean is…" Geillis tried to explain. "Ye are gorgeous, ye ken. There's many a man… or woman… who'd pay good money tae see photos like that. Anyway if it's no' that, what is it?"

"Jamie has asked if they can use my photo in a marketing campaign in Japan. Well, not all of me, just my eyes, the rest of my face would be hidden by a glass of whisky or a bottle. He's discussed it with the board. Now just waiting for my decision."

Geillis looked closely at Claire's eyes. “They are incredible, really like whisky. And I should ken, I've drunk enough. So, ye're going tae do it, are ye no'?"

“I’m not sure. Do you think I should? What if someone recognises me? And I usually look uncomfortable having my photo taken.”

“What if they do recognise ye? Besides, how many people do ye ken in Japan? Why not do it, Claire? Nothing to lose, except some inhibitions. Go fer it… and report back tae me.”

*************  
Patient medical notes lay unopened on Claire’s desk awaiting her review. She sat quietly, thinking about what Geillis had said before reaching for her phone.

She quickly typed a message: 

_G, remember I’m here for you no matter what_

And then a second:

_Tell Ian and Jenny I’ll do it_

She put her phone down and turned her attention to her patients.

************  
The photographer’s studio was in a converted Victorian warehouse. The interior was an urban architect’s dream -- all exposed brick and iron with clear glass walls partitioning the cavernous space.

The photographer and one of his assistants met the ‘whisky delegation’ (as Claire privately called them) of Jamie, Claire, Ian and Jenny in the foyer of the studio. Through the glass walls, Claire could see the bustle of assistants preparing for the shoot. Her stomach flipped over. She was sure Geneva would be perfectly at home in this environment, but to her it was totally alien.

Jamie glanced at Claire’s glass face and discreetly took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers and gently squeezing for reassurance. She felt herself relax a little bit. Jenny looked across and smiled at her. A bit more tension seeped away.

After an initial exchange of introductions, Ian explained. “We have tae have a quick meeting wi’ the agency, Claire, so mebbe they could start getting ye ready and then we can join ye soon enough.”

The photographer, Simon, explained. “Yes, so Debbie here will take you through and start with the makeup.”

Jamie gave Claire’s hand a final squeeze as she was led away into the main studio area.

As she sat and waited for the make up artist, Claire looked around, watching the activity in the studio. Everybody seemed to know exactly what to do… unlike her. She twisted her chair and stared into the large, brightly lit mirror in front of her. A totally unmodel like reflection greeted her. The instruction had been to wear no make up and have freshly washed hair. A typical day for her then. She peered more closely at her reflection. Was that a spot on her chin? She breathed a sigh. Eyes only for the photo was definitely a good decision, she thought to herself. 

The image of Geneva crossed her mind again. She would, no doubt, have been sitting here, giving orders, chatting freely with the assistants, as if in her own living room. Claire tried to suppress a smile. How jealous would Geneva be if… or when... she found out about this? Claire decided that she would make sure she did… petty, yes… satisfying, definitely.

Through the mirror, Claire could see Jamie, Ian and Jenny in the glass-walled meeting room. She spun her chair around for a better look. Jamie had his back to her and had taken his jacket off. His white shirt was stretched tight across his back and shoulders accentuating his well defined muscles, his curls rested against his collar. Even after more than a year, the sight of him could still take her breath away. Would the wanting him ever stop…

“So, hi there. I’m Ceri and I’ll be doing your makeup today.” 

Claire was abruptly pulled out of her reverie by a young woman brandishing an enormous toolbox, which she placed on a trolley next to her. Whirling the seat around to face the mirror, Ceri stared at the reflection before consulting a sheet of paper.

“Right, then. Let’s get started.” Claire closed her eyes and tried to relax as Ceri clipped her hair back and began to stroke various wipes, potions and creams across her face. She actually found it no problem to relax with the murmur of activity in the background and Ceri keeping up a monologue that required no input from Claire.

Suddenly Ceri’s monologue came to an abrupt halt. Claire opened her eyes to find Ceri staring across the studio. She swivelled a little to try, and failed, to see what had fixated the makeup artist.

“Fuck me,” Ceri started then immediately stopped and reddened slightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you with my language. But there’s a guy over there just my type… talking to Simon. Wow… tall… broad… bet he could throw a girl over his shoulder without even breaking into a sweat. The things I’d like to do to him.”

Claire smiled at Ceri’s reaction to this unknown man. She had her suspicions about his identity, but kept them to herself. She didn’t want to embarrass the poor girl and Ceri’s reactions were, after all, perfectly understandable. In fact they were exactly the same thoughts as she herself frequently had… fuck me… please...

“Wow,” Ceri repeated as she returned Claire’s chair to its original position and continued applying makeup. “Guys like him don’t come along very often. Hope he sticks around for a bit. I think I’d like to get to know him better.”

With just the odd exception when Ceri tidied up Claire’s eyebrows, making her wince as the tweezers pulled at tiny stray hairs, she easily found herself drifting back into a state of relaxation.

“Och no, I’m sorry, that willna do.”

Jenny’s disapproving tone made Claire quickly open her eyes.

With her hands on her hips, Jenny continued. “That makeup, around Claire’s eyes, it’s too much.”

Claire peered in the mirror in dismay. A palette of shimmering gold, brown and vivid orange was spread across each eyelid beneath darkened brows. 

“And what is it wi’ the stripes on her forehead and nose?” Jenny placed a hand on Claire’s shoulder.

“It’s contouring.” Ceri spoke nervously, the rising inflection making each sentence sound like a question seeking approval. “It’ll blend in. And the notes I was given just said focus on the eyes.”

“Ah, well, it’s no’ your fault.” Jenny reassured her. “We jes’ need tae wipe it off and try fer something subtle, ye ken?”

Ceri nodded and reached for the wipes as Jenny disappeared to talk with the photographer.

“Oh god, that gorgeous chap, he’s headed over here.” Ceri stood upright, pushed her chest out and watched, smiling broadly as Jamie approached.

Jamie smiled politely in return before giving Claire his full attention and kissing her fondly on the top of her head.

"Ye ken I've never seen ye wi' sae much slap on yer face. It doesna suit ye. "

"I'm sorry. I’m taking it off… I thought that was… " Ceri spoke nervously.

"Dinna fash. It'll wash off," Jamie said. "It's no' the look we are going fer."

"And," he continued, pointing at the hair straighteners. "What are these fer? We're no' havin' straight hair. We want the beauty and wildness of the highlands, the heather in the background, the untamed curls and the natural beauty of these eyes reflecting the amber of the whisky in the foreground. Ye ken?"

Ceri nodded as Jamie kissed Claire once more before heading to talk to the photographer again.

"Are you two an item then?" Ceri asked as she applied makeup remover to Claire's eyes. "Sorry for going on about him before. It's just, well, he is a bit gorgeous. You are lucky."

"Yes," Claire answered laughing. "We're getting married in a few months. And don't worry, I know that feeling well."

Jamie watched from the side as Simon positioned Claire for the shoot. His assistants bustled around her, adjusting lights and moving light reflectors at the photographer’s instruction. He knew this was totally outside her comfort zone, but no one would ever have guessed as she moved and posed under Simon’s guidance. Even though only her eyes would be featured in the advertisement, it was clear that Simon was photographing her entire face. Jamie reminded himself to ask for copies of all the prints for his own personal use.

Suddenly, Claire turned and caught sight of Jamie. Imperceptible to other people, her face changed, the warmth in her eyes increased, their amber depths flashing a message to Jamie. 

He grinned. He knew what was going through her mind. Exactly the same was going through his.

************  
The curtains were slightly open allowing some light from the street to filter into the bedroom and illuminate the curves of Claire's body. A warm summer night, she had gone to bed naked and now the thin sheet lay wrinkled around her waist, exposing her chest and legs to Jamie's gaze.

She sighed contentedly and stretched her arms above her head. Her breasts rose with the sudden movement.

"That was lovely. You knew that was what I was thinking about this afternoon, didn't you?" She commented. 

Jamie turned onto his side, leaning on one elbow. His free hand idly traced a pattern around her breasts.

"Aye, it was plain as day, Sassenach, written all over yer face." He smiled. "It was grand tae watch ye being photographed. Ye were like a real model."

Claire laughed. "Geillis found it so funny when I told her. She seemed to think I'd been asked to do some nude modelling."

"Now there's a thought…"

Jamie's hand ceased its motion. He swallowed hard. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost secretive.

"Would ye do that, then?" He paused before hurriedly continuing. "I dinna mean fer other people, jes' fer me. Ye ken what I mean?"

Claire was quiet for a minute.

"I havena offended ye, have I? I'm sorry if I have."

"I'm not offended. I just… er… don’t think of myself that way… as sexy.”

“Christ, Sassenach, do ye no’ realise ye’re the most beautiful woman in the world. And as fer sexy, well…”

His hand resumed its meandering path around Claire’s breasts, running his fingers lightly around her nipples. His breath was hot against her ear as he carried on talking.

“And tae have these photos of ye and ken that they’re jes’ fer me, only me… a secret treasure that only ye and I share. It makes me hard just thinking about it.”

Claire felt the truth of that statement pressing against her thigh.

Jamie had clearly given this idea some thought. “And tae see ye touch yerself --“

“Eh? And what about sauce for the gander?” Claire asked playfully.

“What? Ye mean in front of ye. I’m no’ sure I can do that, Sassenach.”

“Mmm, interesting. So it’s ok for me but not for you to return the favour. Well, if you’d rather we didn’t play that little game…” Claire let the sentence hang in the air.

“Alright, Sassenach, fair’s fair. I’ll buy a camera this week.”


	12. An Unexpected Exchange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to you all for continuing to read this story, give kudos, comment. It is much appreciated.
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their continued support

_“It’s pointless for a human to paint scenes of nature when they can go outside and stand in it.”_

-Ron Swanson, _Parks and Recreation_

Claire sat at her desk and eyed her tuna sandwich with distaste. While she had magnanimously agreed last night to let Jamie take dinner leftovers -- a very tasty chilli and rice -- for his office lunch today, she had been hoping that he might have somehow forgotten and made his way to the gym and then work without it, leaving her to claim it (rather than it go to waste). When it was clear that hadn’t happened, she had been forced to hastily make the aforementioned sandwich.

There was a light tap at the office door. A grinning head poked around the door, immediately distracting Claire from her dietary woes.

“G, how you doing? Come and talk to me,” Claire exclaimed.

Geillis strolled into the office and pulled up a chair. She looked longingly at Claire’s sandwich.

“Christ, I’m fucking starving. And I’ve only a banana fer ma lunch.”

Claire pushed the untouched sandwich towards her friend. “There you go. Have that. Now, tell me all your news.”

Geillis took a large bite of the sandwich and munched for a few moments before taking a swig out of Claire’s now cold coffee mug and clearing her throat.

“It’s been a fucker of a morning in the emergency department. We had a chap come in, wouldna talk tae the receptionist or a female nurse. Finally agreed tae talk tae Big Steve, ye ken the guy? The nurse practitioner that does the body building? Weel, turns out he’s come in wi’ a can of body spray wedged up his arse, he couldna get it out. Apparently he’d tried wi’ some kitchen tongs, only shoved it further up.”

“He said…” Geillis took a smaller bite and carried on talking. “He said that he’d slipped getting out of the shower and fell on tae it. Imagine that? And we’re there tryin’ tae be serious while he’s spinnin’ us this yarn. So he goes off tae X-Ray and we’re all placing bets on what scent it is.”

“Is he ok?”

“Turns out it wasna lodged too far up, so Dr. Chris was able tae get it out wi’ no operation needed. And then this chap actually asked if he could have the spray back, as it’s his favourite. Dr. Chris told him it was now classed as clinical waste and would therefore have tae be disposed of ‘in an appropriate manner.’”

Geillis finished her sandwich and looked around for a napkin. Claire passed her a tissue.

“And what scent was it?” Claire prompted, laughing.

“Lynx… Africa. I guessed it. Lucky fer him it was only the smaller size… I mean, the girth on those larger sprays… imagine… no’ even Dougal would --”

“And how is Dougal?” Claire hastily changed the subject. “I know it’s ok from your texts, but what did he say about the whole baby thing?”

“Weel… after all that worryin’ and mitherin’ I put meself through, Dougal was verra understanding about it. I told him straight that I dinna want a baby at the moment, and would likely never want one. So it was his choice… me and no bairn, or no me. And he did the sensible thing… he chose me. The door’s left open, but…”

“And why wouldn’t he? He’d be a fool to give you up.”

“Aye, I ken. I tell him regular that he’s lucky tae have me.”

Geillis delved into her voluminous handbag and retrieved a banana, brandishing it aloft.

“Fancy half a banana? Tae eat? I tell ye… what I’ve seen today… it’s oral consumption only with bananas from now on fer me.”

Claire tentatively took half from Geillis, a worried expression on her face.

“Dinna fash,” Geillis sighed. “I bought it this morning. It’s a virgin banana. I do have some standards, ye ken.”

*************

Jamie and Claire strolled through the park, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun. It was a perfect day, with not a cloud in the sky and only a slight breeze rustling through the trees.

“Do ye think I’ve put enough sun cream on William, Sassenach ? I dinna want him to burn.”

Claire looked over at William, clad in a bright blue romper suit and matching baseball cap and strapped securely onto Jamie’s chest. She could still faintly see the layer of sun cream meticulously applied by Jamie before they came out.

“Think you’ve put enough on for a trip to the equator,” she joked.

“Aye, weel, ye canna be too careful. Shall we head tae the river and look fer some duckies then, ma wee man?”

Jamie took the loud raspberry from William as agreement. He held Claire’s hand as they wandered alongside the river, their companionable silence only broken by William’s excited babbling. 

After a somewhat disinterested encounter with the ducks, they settled themselves on a riverside bench to watch the world go by. William tried to bounce, pressing his feet firmly against Jamie’s thighs, eliciting an ‘aargh’ sound from his father.

Claire laughed as she gazed at her two men. She held William’s dimpled hand to her mouth and kissed it.

“He’s laughing at you, Jamie, when you make that sound.”

“Aargh… aargh…” Jamie repeated his exclamation to William’s increasing delight, his chuckles growing louder and louder and joining the laughter from his father and Claire.

“Ah, Claire. I’d recognise those curls anywhere. Your hair is very distinctive, you know,” a voice spoke suddenly, cutting into the moment.

She stopped laughing as she stood up and turned around, patting her hair. Instinctively Jamie stood as well and turned to face the voice.

“Frank… wow, what a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought… have you… are you still down in England?”

“Er, yes. I’m just up here for the weekend. Conference, you know. Just on my way to the gallery, see the exhibitions. You’re looking well, Claire.” 

Frank smiled at her, oblivious to the palpable tension radiating from Jamie.

"Thanks," Claire responded politely. "Frank, this is my fiancé, Jamie. Jamie, this is Frank… an old friend."

Jamie extended his hand and enveloped Frank's long, elegant fingers in a bone crushing handshake. 

“Pleased tae meet ye.” Jamie’s words were at odds with the look on his face.

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Engaged? Well, congratulations to you both… and a baby? Life has changed very quickly for you, Claire. So, are you at work, or maternity leave?”

Claire looked at William who, lacking entertainment, was simultaneously sucking his thumb whilst trying to pull his cap off. 

“Actually, William is my step-son. He’s Jamie’s son.”

“Oh, I see.” Frank’s statement hung in the air.

“We’re getting married in just over three months’ time.” Claire suddenly felt defensive as she remembered Frank’s judgemental nature.

William, having succeeded in pulling his cap off and dropping it, now let out a cry as Claire picked it up and secured it firmly back on his head. The cry was followed by a series of sobs becoming louder and louder.

“I think he needs a nap.” Claire explained over the crying. “We should be heading home. Well, all the best, Frank.”

Frank leant forward and lightly kissed Claire on both cheeks. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Bye then.” Jamie nodded and took Claire’s hand as they started walking away.

The journey home was made in silence, William dozing fitfully in his car seat. Once at the house, Jamie, still silent, took William upstairs and put him down in his cot. Claire pottered in the kitchen, putting the kettle to boil, pulling the cafetière out of the cupboard, opening the cake tin. When she heard Jamie’s steps coming downstairs, she made the coffee and cut two slices of banana loaf. Each action precise, deliberate and calm, which was exactly what she wasn’t feeling.

“Jamie, come and sit down.” She placed a mug of coffee and slice of banana loaf in front of him as he slumped at the kitchen table.

“Right, so, what is the matter with you? You’ve had a face like a slapped arse ever since we bumped into Frank in the park. It’s to do with him, isn’t it? And don’t try to tell me nothing is the matter. Sulking is not a good look on a thirty-three year old man, you know.”

Jamie was quiet for a moment, fiddling randomly with the baby monitor. Finally, he placed the monitor on the kitchen table, took a large gulp of coffee, screwing up his face as the hot liquid hit his mouth, and sighed.

“Aye, ye’re right. ‘Twas partly yer man. When ye said William was yer ‘step-son’, I could see Frank, I ken what he was thinking. He was looking at me, judging me, thinking I was some serial shagger hopping from bed tae bed… mebbe even wondering if I’d be faithful tae ye.”

Claire came and sat at the kitchen table with Jamie.

“First of all, what does it matter what Frank's opinion of us is? He’s not part of our lives. And if we’re talking about serial shaggers, I could tell you a thing or two about him. So what if he wonders about you being unfaithful? No one we know or care about would ever think that.”

“Second of all,” Claire tapped the kitchen table with her forefinger emphasising her points. “Are you unhappy because I said William was my step-son? You didn’t want me to lie, did you? Let him think I was William’s birth mother?”

Jamie lifted his eyes from his mug of coffee to look at Claire, his cheeks reddening slightly. “No’ lie as such, but ye dinna have tae say anything.”

“To make you feel better, to not be judged by Frank? What does that even matter? Or did you want to prove a point to Frank?”

“Ye dinna understand. It’s no’ jes’ tae do wi’ Frank… it’s like… when we’re in the park or some such place, and I see all the families around us, playing and laughing, I like to think, or pretend, that there is nae Geneva, nae leaving ma son fer half the week. I dinna like tae be reminded. I like tae think that we’re a family jes’ like those around us.”

Claire pulled her chair closer to Jamie and reached across to stroke his auburn curls. He inclined his head and closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her nails, now lightly scratching his scalp.

“You are a silly, silly man. We are a family just like those around us at the park… there’ll be every variation of family there… half siblings, step-parents, step-children, single parents, adopted children, fostered, raised by grandparents. And you know what, when it comes down to it, it’s all family. And that’s what matters.”

“Aye, I may be a silly man, but I ken that ye, Claire Beauchamp soon tae be Fraser, are a fine woman that I’m no’ sure that I deserve.”

“Well, I’m not sure either that you deserve me, but…” she replied as she moved to stand between his legs. “... you can try.”

Jamie’s hands settled on her arse as Claire bent her head to kiss him. As the kiss deepened, her hands snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter to her.

The sudden cry from the baby monitor broke them apart.

“He’s no’ got the best timing,” Jamie laughed. “Guess he doesna want his old man having fun.”

Claire breathed in his ear. “Later.” 

“Later,” Jamie agreed.


	13. A Covetous Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve and @wickedgoodbooks for their support
> 
> nsfw chapter warning

_“As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.”_

Jane Austen - _Pride & Prejudice_

Jamie sat in the living room and waited expectantly. 

Claire had returned home from work, her arms fully laden with an abundance of chiffon, lace, velvet and glitter in a wild assortment of colours. She had greeted him with a peck on the lips, swiftly pulling away as he moved closer to prolong it. 

Having informed him that the bountiful selection of evening gowns was on loan from Geillis for the black tie fundraiser at Kelvingrove Art Gallery, she instructed him to sit down and get comfortable as she paraded the dresses for his opinions. Before he could reply, she emphasised that although his views were appreciated, the final choice of gown was entirely hers.

Surveying the assortment of dresses now spread over the bed like some sort of high-end jumble sale, Claire could see that there was one clear winner in her mind and a couple that she would never have the courage to wear in public. She wondered when Geillis had the opportunity to wear them, as she didn’t talk about attending many formal events.

Realisation dawned and Claire smiled to herself. With Geillis’ and Dougal’s propensity for role play and other ‘related activities’, she supposed that some of these ‘costumes’ may have been included in said activities. Fortunately, as Claire noticed the dry cleaning tags still on the dresses, Geillis’ passion for sexual role play was only matched by her obsession with cleanliness and hygiene.

And now Jamie was downstairs waiting for the fashion show. Claire picked up the first dress and slipped it off the hanger.

Claire stood in the doorway. The black velvet dress clung to her curves as she walked into the room, her stride restricted by the tightness of the fabric around her legs. Only the diamanté trim on the high collar relieved the severity of the dress.

“What do you think?” Claire asked.

“Weel, ‘tis very plain. It’s no’ bad, but… Christ, Sassenach...” Jamie exclaimed as Claire turned her back on him to reveal the dress was backless, from collar all the way to the cleft of her buttocks.

She wiggled her bottom as he carried on talking. 

“I can see yer bum cheeks in that. And ye canna be wearing any knickers, can ye?”

Claire turned her head to look at Jamie, his eyes still firmly fixed on her arse.

“I must admit, my bum is a bit bigger that Geillis’s, so there may be a bit of… er… cheek cleavage, shall we say? And you’re right, I can’t wear knickers with it, or bra either.”

Jamie swallowed hard.

“Aye, yer arse looks mighty fine in that dress. But, I’m no’ sure…”

Claire laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on wearing this to the fundraiser. Just wanted to see your reaction. Wait there, there’s more.”

And with that she tottered out of the room. 

Jamie obeyed her instructions to wait there. In fact, he didn't want to move anyway. Claire seemed intent on putting on a show for him, and who was he to deny her that?

A flurry of red chiffon floated into the living room. Jamie stared at the vision in front of him.

“Wow,” he finally uttered.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… er…” 

Claire gave a quick twirl.

“Christ, Sassenach, I can see half yer boob at the side, and the other half from the front. And jes’ those wee straps holding it up. If one of them should snap…”

“I’ve thought of that. I can carry some safety pins with me, in case,” she teased as she moved closer to him, bending over and placing her hands on his thighs.

The thin shoulder straps slipped down her arms as Jamie lightly stroked her breast. He reached into the bodice, easily pushing the flimsy fabric aside, exposing her breasts fully.

Claire closed her eyes as he cupped both breasts, rhythmically rubbing the nipples with his thumbs.

“‘It’s a fine dress,” he whispered. “But I dinna think…”

“Don’t worry, this isn’t the one. I have already chosen something more suitable. This was just for you.”

She pulled away, ignoring his moan of protest. Gathering up the voluminous fabric of the skirt, she climbed onto the sofa, straddling him.

“Didn’t bother putting any knickers on for this dress either,” she whispered in his ear.

His hands slid under the dress to firmly grab her arse, drawing her closer to him. His cock was hard, almost painful, trapped inside his jogging bottoms. He wanted this to last, but could already feel his climax begin to build. 

Claire’s nipples stiffened as he drew first one, then the other into his mouth, his tongue circling each in turn before his teeth lightly nipped the hard peak as he transferred attention to the other. Her low moan drove straight to his cock.

“I canna wait.” His voice quivered with desire. “Are ye ready?”

One hand travelled from her backside, along her hip before dipping between her parted legs, into the moist heat of her very core.

“God, ye are… so wet… so ready fer me.”

Claire wound her arms around his neck, her fingers raking through his curls. “Yes… ready…”

She knelt up to allow Jamie to shimmy his jogging bottoms and underpants down his thighs. Released from its restrictions, his cock sprang free, to be enveloped by the warmth of Claire’s hand. Teasing, she rubbed the tip along her moistness, shivering as it circled around her sensitive nub.

“I need tae be inside ye.” Jamie could wait no longer as Claire positioned herself and drove down against his cock before raising her hips and grinding down again and again, the motion drawing Jamie closer and closer to his release. His hand slipped under her dress once more, his fingers touching their joined flesh and stroking in time with each thrust, every movement building to their shattering climax.

They remained still joined as, panting, they came back to reality.

“Amazing…” Claire breathed.

“Thank ye, Sassenach.” Jamie chuckled. “Ye werena sae bad yerself.”

**************  
Claire watched as Jamie sauntered across the room towards her, snagging a couple of glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. ‘Sauntering’ was a good description, Claire thought to herself, a certain careless elegance in his walk with long lean strides, unaware (apparently) of the admiring glances being cast in his direction. 

Well, not totally unaware, as he smiled at her and lifted the champagne glasses to show her his acquisitions. This was the first time she had seen him in his dinner suit and, much as she found his kilt a total turn on, this outfit was proving to be a bit of welcome variety.

To Jamie, Claire stood out like a candle amid a sea of monochrome. The copper-toned dress that she had chosen fitted like a glove. Grecian, Claire had informed him. He didn’t know about that, he just knew that the colours accentuated her hair’s natural highlights, the off-the-shoulder draping displayed her creamy white skin, and the tight bodice held her breasts securely… with just enough cleavage to torment him. He had never seen her in such a formal gown before, and wouldn’t again until... he inhaled sharply at the thought. Until the day she would wear her wedding dress.

“Thank God,” she greeted him, accepting one of the champagne glasses. “I’m parched. Have you spotted Ian and Jenny yet?”

“Nah, Sorry, I was jes’ chatting tae the features editor of Whisky Magazine. He’s at our table fer dinner. I’m hoping they’ll do a feature on the Japanese launch.”

“So, you’re not here to support the hospice then, it’s a business opportunity,” Claire teased.

“Can I no’ do both, Sassenach? Ah, look, see Jenny’s over there, heading tae our table. Shall we?”

She took his arm as they made their way through the maze of white tablecloths and black crepe chair bows to their table.

Jenny and Ian were already seated, along with four guests Claire didn’t recognise. Jamie took his seat with Jenny on his left and Claire on his right. An unfamiliar face was next to Claire. Jamie leant across the table and spoke to the stranger.

“Claire, this is Tom Christie. Tom, this is ma fiancée, Claire Beauchamp.”

Claire smiled politely at the older man. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Allow me to introduce you to my colleagues… Morag, Giles and Mary.” Tom gestured to the remaining occupants of the table.

With the introductions over, the table settled down to the first course of Cullen Skink. The conversation to and fro across the table was polite, entertaining, superficial.

As the waiters collected the empty soup bowls, Tom spoke directly to Jamie. “I believe ye’ve offered up an auction prize… five bottles of yer thirty-year-old Broch Tuarach special reserve. Verra generous of ye. And how much would that cost?”

“It retails fer three hundred pounds a bottle.”

“Aye.” Jenny joined the conversation. “And if the bid is over a thousand pounds, the winner gets a tour and whisky tasting at the distillery, too.”

“What say ye, Miss Beauchamp, should I bid on this lot? Would ye be ma tour guide?” Tom turned to Claire. “Mebbe we should run a feature on the distillery in the magazine.”

“We’d be more than happy to arrange a visit fer ye and yer colleagues at the magazine.” Jenny offered. “And a whisky tasting too. Any time.”

Tom nodded briefly in acknowledgement of Jenny’s suggestion.

As the main course of Scottish reared beef was served, the conversation became sparse, everyone savouring the succulent meat and the smooth red wine accompanying it. 

Claire drained her wine. Jamie reached for the bottle but Tom beat him to it and replenished her glass before setting the bottle back on the table with a sly grin. Jenny gave a theatrical cough and held her empty glass aloft. Tom turned his attention back to Claire.

“I trust ye enjoy a dram or two of Broch Tuarach then, Claire? One of the perks of joining the family, eh?”

“Yes, I do like a good whisky,” Claire responded and took a large sip of wine. “And Broch Tuarach is certainly special. Has Jamie or Jenny told you about the launch in Japan? That’s really big news for the distillery.”

Tom moved closer to Claire, his voice now a conspiratorial whisper in her ear. 

“I must say, yer eyes are amazing. Jamie is a lucky man.”

On Claire’s left she could hear the scrape of Jamie’s chair as he inched closer to her. His arm moved across to rest along the back of her chair.

“Sae, Tom,” Claire recognised the fake bonhomie in Jamie’s voice. “Who do ye favour fer the World Whisky Awards, then?”

“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.” Claire stood and looked around for a bathroom sign.

“Aye, that’s a good idea. I’ll join ye.” Jenny followed Claire.

“True tae form. They canna go tae the bathroom on their own,” Ian joked.

*********  
Claire shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The large dinner was proving to be a mistake, as the bones in her bodice were digging into her skin and Tom was demonstrating a bit too much interest in her cleavage. She felt obliged to be pleasant and polite to him, hopeful of a Broch Tuarach feature in his magazine. Only one thing to do… she took another sip from her brandy, rested her free hand lightly on Jamie’s thigh and tried to ignore the now slightly inebriated and sweaty middle aged man next to her and focus on the auction up on the stage.

The bids for the whisky climbed higher and higher, quickly reaching four figures before finally settling at two and a half thousand pounds. 

“It’d be cheaper for them to buy it off the shelf,” Jenny commented. “But I ken it’s all fer the hospice and they get a whisky tasting… and mebbe we could put them up fer the night too, dinner and breakfast?”

Jamie and Ian readily agreed as the three of them were ushered towards the photographer, ready for the obligatory snap with the lucky bidder. 

“Dinner and breakfast, eh?” Tom spoke slowly, carefully trying not to slur his words. “Mebbe I should have bid tae see yer fine eyes over the dinner table… and the breakfast table… and in between…”

His gaze was clearly focused several inches below her eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think Jenny wants me.” Claire walked over to join the others.

With the auction all concluded, the lights dimmed and the disco began. Ian and Jamie were engrossed in an important conversation about rugby as Claire and Jenny headed to the dance floor where they stayed, with only the occasional break for refreshments as the DJ ran through the standard reception repertoire.

Claire loved dancing, it felt exhilarating as the heavy bass beat ran through her body. Any discomfort from her dress was rapidly forgotten. And Jenny was always a willing partner. With two children under five, she was keen for any chance to enjoy grown-up time.

Claire was aware of Jamie, sitting at the table, now with his jacket off, watching her. He didn’t really enjoy dancing but was happy enough to let her go wild to her heart’s content on the dance floor. She was also aware of Tom watching her intently, but tried to ignore him and focus on the music.

Gradually, Claire’s hair, which had been tamed and coiffed for this event, began to break free of its restraints and as she danced, the curls floated around her face and shoulders. Laughing, she pushed them out of her eyes. Jamie loved this wild abundance of curls. He longed to gather them up in his hands and then let them cascade down her neck and back. And, he admitted to himself, he wanted to show Tom that Claire belonged to him. He wasn’t particularly proud of this feeling so he remained seated and tried to ignore it.

Tom, however, had no desire to remain seated and began to boogie his way to the dance floor, joining Claire and Jenny. It was obvious where his intentions lay as he gyrated around Claire, turning his back to Jenny. Claire kept on moving away, getting closer to Jenny.

Jamie watched, growing angrier by the minute. Unable to stand this display, he walked up behind Claire and put his arms around her waist. She turned slightly to smile at him.

He whispered in her ear. “Are ye ready tae go now?”

Claire pouted. “I can’t remember when I last had a boogie. Do we have to go now?”

“Ten minutes?”

“Ok, ten minutes.”

With a kiss on her neck, Jamie strode back to his seat while Claire turned to Jenny and carried on dancing.


	14. An Unwarranted Repercussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to you all for reading. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> As always thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their support

_Margaret was not a ready lover, but where she loved she loved passionately, and with no small degree of jealousy._

― Elizabeth Gaskell, _North and South_

Even though Claire had turned her back on Tom, she could sense he was still there, awkwardly dancing. She was becoming more and more annoyed with his behaviour. Her enjoyment was being ruined by a drunken letch. 

A drunken letch who now moved closer and whispered in her ear. 

“If ye give me yer phone number, I can call and we could mebbe discuss a feature spread…” he emphasised the last word before continuing. “... benef… bene… good for all of us. I’d like tae see ye again. I dinna think Jamie needs tae know. Aye?”

His hand rested on the small of her back. Claire took a step back, away from him, dislodging his hand. 

“No,” she replied fiercely. “That’s not going to happen. We don’t need your magazine that much. I don’t know what gives you the right to think I would even contemplate that. I have been polite to you all night, but no more. So just fuck right off.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Claire noticed Jamie brushing past people to get to them. He very deliberately came to stand between Claire and Tom, his hand possessively around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him. She could feel the tension in his body, ready to explode at any moment. Jenny disappeared off the dance floor to fetch Ian.

“I’ll thank ye tae no’ put yer hands on ma fiancée,” he hissed. “D’ye think I wouldna see? Ye try one more thing like that and, so help me god, drunk or no’ I will take ye outside and punch yer fuckin’ lights out.”

Tom pulled himself up to his full height, five inches less than Jamie, and stared challengingly at him, a slight smile on his face.

“Come on, let’s go. Ignore him… be the bigger man.” Claire tried to guide Jamie away, but he remained stationary, feet firmly planted.

Ian came up on Jamie’s other side. “Och, man, ye dinna want tae be bothering wi’ this drunken wee gobshite. Ye ken I always have yer back, but this shithead is no’ worth our energy. Let him be. Listen tae what Claire says. Time tae go home, I think.”

Jamie’s body relaxed slightly as he allowed Claire to guide him away. He momentarily turned back to Tom.

“I mean it. Ye better hope I never see ye again, Mister Christie.”

*****************  
Jamie was silent on the taxi ride home, apart from the occasional instruction to the driver. Once inside the house, he locked the front door and headed straight for the bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time.

Claire pottered around downstairs for a few minutes before following. 

Jamie was in the bathroom, cleaning his teeth. Claire pushed the door open and turned her back to him.

“Unzip me would you?”

With the toothbrush wedged in his mouth, he did as she asked, before moving back to the wash basin. 

“Are we going to talk about tonight, Jamie? Or are you just going to carry on not speaking? Because if that's the case, you may want to think about where you're planning on sleeping tonight. I'm not sharing a bed with you and your shitty mood."

Having hung her dress up, Claire quickly popped an old t-shirt of Jamie’s on and sat on the bed waiting for him to join her. Eventually he came into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his middle and sat beside her.

“So?” she prompted.

“Weel…” Jamie started then ground to a halt.

“Hmm?”

“Yer man, Tom Christie. I could see how he was, wi’ ye all evening… trying it on wi’ ye. I didna like it. I had tae say something tae him.”

“And you did. So it’s over. We don’t have to bother about him again.”

“It’s jes’...” he hesitated again, staring down at his hands. “It’s jes’... I didna like the way ye were talking tae him, dancing with him. Giving him encouragement, mebbe?”

Claire rose and went to stand in front of Jamie. She tried to keep her voice calm. “Let me get this straight. He was trying to flirt with me and somehow it’s my fault? I don’t know what to say.”

Calmness be damned, Claire decided. “Actually I do know what to say… and you will sit and listen to this, with no interruptions.”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, he was talking to me, and I was being polite, not flirty, polite. There is a difference.” 

The anger was now clear in her voice. “I was polite, talking about the distillery, the whisky launch in Japan. Trying to encourage him to do a feature for the magazine. That’s why I didn’t want to be rude to him… for you and your family.”

“But what about when ye were dancing?” 

“What about it? I was dancing with Jenny. You know how much I love to dance. I was having a great time and he came up to me. I wasn’t dancing with him, I was trying to avoid him.”

“Ye could have stopped dancing, come back tae the table.” Jamie was unwilling to back down, although, as he snatched a glance at Claire’s face he knew this was a big mistake. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was fighting the wrong battle. His fury was with Tom Christie and his drunken flirting and now he realised that he was taking it out on Claire.

Jamie tried to continue talking but Claire held a hand up to silence him.

“I’m speaking and you can talk when I’m finished. So I was supposed to stop doing what I was doing, what I enjoyed doing, because of him? Oh, that’s right,” Claire’s voice took on a sarcastic tone. “The solution to men behaving badly, or inappropriately, is always the same -- women are expected to change what they do, what they wear, what they say. Why it’s always the woman’s fault, I don’t know. When will men realise they have to change their behaviour, not expect us to be forced to change ours?”

As Claire paused to gather her thoughts, Jamie seized his opportunity. “I ken ye’re probably no’ finished and I will listen tae whatever else ye have tae say but…”

He reached out to take Claire’s hand. Reluctantly she let him hold it, letting it rest passively against his palm.

“... but ye’re right. What I expected ye tae do back there… I tried tae make ye accountable fer his behaviour. Ye did nothing wrong and I wanted ye tae change yer actions. I’m that furious wi’ Tom Christie and I tried tae take it out on ye. I’m sorry. Am I forgiven?”

Claire moved and sat next to Jamie on the end of the bed, her hand still in his. She lightly stroked his palm.

“Well, yes, but think about what I said. You’ve no need to be jealous. Remember that. And remember not to take it out on me either. That's not fair. I don’t let it bother me when women flirt with you.”

Jamie gave Claire a quizzical look.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that look, don’t pretend that you don’t notice when women try and flirt with you. That makeup artist the other week, for example, making eyes at you and telling me how gorgeous you are.”

“Nah, Sassenach, it wasna that --“ Jamie stopped abruptly. He had been about to say that it did bother Claire when a certain woman had tried to flirt with him, but suddenly realised that it would be a very bad idea to bring Geneva into this conversation. And, he told himself, it wasn’t Geneva trying to flirt that made Claire angry, it had been her blatant attempts to sabotage their relationship.

"... it was… er… I didna ken that you notice," he finished lamely.

“Of course I notice. I notice all the time. And I don’t have a go at you about it, do I?”

Jamie shook his head. “Sassenach, I’m sorry. Are we good now?”

“Ok. Just remember what I said though. Promise?”

“Promise.”

******************  
Jamie tapped lightly on the door and, without waiting for an answer, poked his head into the office.

“Am I disturbing?” he asked Ian and Jenny, both sitting at the small meeting table set up in Ian’s office.

“Nae more than usual,” Jenny quipped, pulling a face.

“Ah, sisterly love is a grand thing,” Ian joked. “Nah, ye’re no’ bothering. In fact ye’ve timed it well. We’ve jes’ got the proofs from the advertising agency. Do ye want tae see?”

The proofs were spread across the table. All contained the same elements, a background of purple heather-clad hills, Claire’s barely tamed curls and eyes and, in the foreground, the amber whisky in either a glass or bottle on its side, obscuring the lower half of her face. The difference between the variety of images lay with her eyes - some crinkled with laughter, some wide and dreamy, staring into the distance and some with an indefinable glint. Indefinable, that is, to most people but Jamie could swear he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

“They’re breathtaking. The colour of Claire’s eyes next tae the whisky…”

“Aye, I ken,” Jenny replied. “‘Twas a great idea of yers. Seems Claire is truly becoming part of the family business, does it no’?”

“I love that. She really belongs here wi’ me… wi’ us.”

“She does and all. And Wee Jamie in the car this morning told us he’s going tae marry someone with curly hair who fixes people.” Ian smiled.

Jamie took another look at the images on the table. “I dinna ken which I’d choose. Good luck tae ye making that decision.”

“Actually,” Ian gathered up the sheets. “We’re going tae let Brian have the final say.”

“Anyway,” Jamie settled himself in a spare chair and opened up his iPad. “That’s no’ why I’m here. After all that stramash wi’ Tom Christie the other night, I didna think the magazine would be keen tae feature us, but no, here, I’ve an email from his daughter Malva. She’s head of marketing there, aye? And she’s asking if we would be willing tae let the magazine feature our Japanese launch. How good is that?”

He looked across the table at Ian and Jenny, sitting with a slight smile on her face.

“What do ye ken?” he asked Ian.

Ian shrugged his shoulders. “It’s no’ ma story.”

“Jenny?”

Jenny reached for Jamie’s iPad and quickly scanned the email.

“I didna realise, but Malva’s wee lad is at the same pre-school as Jamie. I didna ken as the bairn is no’ called Christie. Anyway, I happened to see her, fer the first time at drop off this morning. I may have mentioned in our conversation that her da had been on our table at the charity gala and may possibly have made a wee bit of a drunken tit of himself, leading to a slight difference of opinion with yerself. She kens the value of business, she willna want tae risk losing our advertising. Hence the email… trying tae get back in our good books.”

Jenny passed the iPad back to Jamie and continued. “I didna mention Claire tae Malva. It’s bad enough having a drunken dickhead for a father, let alone a drunken, lecherous one.”

Jamie laughed. “Jenny, ye’re a marvel, so ye are.”

“Aye, weel, dinna the two of ye ever forget it.”


	15. An Ominous Objective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this story. hope you enjoy
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their support

_"It is a long way off, sir"  
"From what Jane?"  
"From England and from Thornfield: and ___"  
"Well?"  
"From you, sir”_

Charlotte Brontë - _Jane Eyre_

Jamie glared at the stationary traffic in front of him. Driving through Glasgow city centre at five on a Friday afternoon was definitely not on his list of favourite things to be doing. He loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. What he really wanted to be doing right now involved a glass of wine, a shower and a naked Claire. Actually, no, he corrected himself. What he really wanted was playtime with William and then, once the lad was asleep in his cot, the wine, shower and naked Claire.

The journey across the city to pick William up was a total pain, but at least Jamie knew it would be coming to an end once William started nursery. It was fortunate that the nursery he and Geneva had selected was midway between their respective homes. Jamie felt that was more by luck than judgement. Geneva would never have deliberately considered making it easier for him in any way. And if he hadn’t been contributing half towards fees, he doubted he would have had any input at all into nursery selection.

This ‘midway’ nursery had ticked all the boxes on Geneva’s extensive checklist and she had been suitably impressed by the calibre of the cars at pick up time. Jamie had been more concerned with the calibre of the nursery staff that would be caring for his son, but the nursery scored highly on all fronts.

As the red brake lights on the cars in front disappeared, Jamie crept forward, grinding to a halt after a couple of yards. He sighed loudly. Geneva was a stickler for good timekeeping, and if this traffic continued, he would be late and undoubtedly earn a ‘talking to’ on parental commitment. Still, it was worth any amount of ‘Geneva-isms’ to be able to spend time with his son.

He considered their plans for this weekend. Friday night was obviously taken care of (playtime, wine, shower, naked Claire). As Claire was working on Sunday, Jamie planned to take William swimming for the first time. He smiled at the thought of the cute swimming nappy, covered with brightly coloured fish, in the chest of drawers at home ready for his son. He hadn’t quite figured out the logistics of getting a five month old baby dry and dressed at the same time as getting himself dry and dressed, but assumed there were facilities at the swimming pool to cope with that.

Finally, the traffic started moving and Jamie pulled up outside Geneva’s house with three minutes to spare. Feeling slightly wrinkled and sweaty, he rang the doorbell.

“Hello, James.”

The sight of Louisa Dunsany caught Jamie off-guard.

“Louisa,” Jamie greeted her politely. “I didna realise ye were up here visiting.”

She looked him up and down, making him feel self-conscious about any possible sweat patches on his shirt. He pushed that thought from his mind. He was here to collect his son, not to be judged by the boy’s disagreeable grandmother.

“There’s no reason why you would know that. Geneva doesn’t have to notify you of her social calendar.”

Louisa stepped aside to allow Jamie into the hallway before leading him into the living room.

“Actually,” Louisa carried on talking over her shoulder. “I’m here to help Geneva out. She’s not here today, so I’ve been taking care of my grandson.”

Jamie rushed across the room to where William sat in his little seat. He quickly scooped him up and held him tightly, blowing loud raspberries against his son’s soft cheeks. William chuckled and grabbed a fistful of his father’s curls.

Louisa sniffed. “So that’s where he’s learnt that trick from, is it?”

There was no humour in her voice.

Jamie paid no attention and carried on entertaining William.

“She’s flown down to Manchester for the day,” Louisa spoke without prompting. “To discuss an exciting opportunity for her, moving forward.”

Jamie suddenly stopped tickling the baby and gave Louisa his full attention.

“What do ye mean?”

“Oh, may be nothing. We’ll just have to wait and see. I’ll go and fetch William’s cardigan. We don’t want him catching a chill.”

No amount of questioning on Jamie’s part could make Louisa provide any more information. He tried repeatedly as they headed to the front door but, for once, Louisa was as silent as the grave.

He drove slowly home, trying to focus on the road while William babbled and cooed in the back of the car. Louisa’s comment kept circling in his mind which, he supposed, had been her intention -- to turn a potentially innocent activity of Geneva’s into something for Jamie to worry and fret about._ Which she has managed successfully_, he told himself and tried to push those thoughts away and concentrate on his ongoing project of teaching William to say ‘dada’.

***********

Claire was waiting as he came into the house carrying William in his car seat. 

“Any luck?” She asked, kissing the baby’s forehead.

“Nah, I kept repeating it but he wasna willing tae give it a go.”

“You know, when he does actually start saying ‘dada’, he won’t be referencing you, it’s just a sound.”

“Nah, ye’re wrong there, Sassenach. He kens his da and he’ll soon be calling fer me by name.”

Claire rolled her eyes and tutted. “Alright. Have it your way.”

Jamie deposited the car seat on the floor of the living room as Claire knelt and began undoing the straps securing William. Jamie settled himself on the sofa and watched for a moment, her face lighting up as William smiled contentedly at her, his fingers pulling at her lips. Laughing, she caught them in her mouth, pretending to eat them to the baby’s delight. Jamie’s stomach lurched, _if anything should happen to change this arrangement..._

“That bloody woman…” he blurted out.

“Geneva?”

“Nah, her bloody mother. She likes tae try and twist the knife whenever she can. She informed me today that she was minding William as Geneva had gone tae Manchester for an ‘exciting opportunity for her future’. What if it’s a job? What if Geneva’s planning tae move tae Manchester?” 

Jamie stood up and began pacing. 

“What if she’s trying tae take ma son away?” His voice grew louder and more agitated. “I canna have that. He canna be 4 hours away from me.”

William’s eyes opened wide in shock at the unfamiliar cadence in his father’s voice and he suddenly let out a heartrending wail. Claire picked him up and rocked him, gently rubbing his back until his sobs subsided.

“Hush, hush,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s ok. Your Da didn’t mean to scare you.”

She glared at Jamie. “Jamie, voice, please.”

Jamie crouched next to Claire and stroked William’s head. “Sorry, lad. I dinna mean tae scare ye, it’s jes’... Claire, I couldna bear it.”

Holding William in one arm, Claire reached over to Jamie, pulling him onto the carpet next to her. She leant against his chest.

“James Fraser, that isn’t going to happen… for many reasons.”

Claire shifted William, his warm, chubby body nestled between herself and Jamie. She batted the baby’s hand gently away from her mouth as she tried to carry on talking.

“First of all, this is Louisa, who will say anything to try and get a reaction from you. For all you know, Geneva could have gone to Manchester to meet a friend. Second of all, Geneva will be back at work in a couple of weeks. Perhaps she had to go down to meet with a client. Thirdly, even if it is a new job there’s such a thing as remote working and...”

“And?” Jamie prompted.

“And I think we talk to John, get his advice… talk to Ned.”

“So ye do think she’s planning tae leave?” Jamie pulled his son closer to him.

“Noooo, well, we don’t really know, but it does no harm in being prepared. In the hospital, we have plans for major incidents -- evacuations, that type of thing. We never have to use them, but they’re there just in case. Consider it like that. Why not invite John around tomorrow for coffee and we can talk it through?”

“Aye, happen ye’re right. I’ll give John a call when William’s asleep.” Jamie paused for a moment and watched his son, now tugging on Claire’s hair. “She wouldna be so cruel, would she?”

**************  
With William fast asleep in his cot, Jamie poured himself a glass of wine and sat down to make some phone calls.

The first call went directly through to voicemail. “Geneva, it’s Jamie. Call me back please… urgently.”

Claire came to sit beside him. “She may think there’s a problem with William from that message.”

“Let her worry, she’s made me do enough of that over this past year.” Jamie pulled a face then looked across at Claire. “Ok, ok. I’ll send her a text tae say William is fine.”

Jamie put the phone onto speaker for the next call.

“John, Hello. How ye doing, man?”

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, Jamie, Claire. I’m not doing too bad, thanks. Bit achy after our gym session last night, though. You up for another round? I thought you had William this weekend.”

“Aye, we do. Nah, it’s no’ about the gym. Are ye around fer coffee and a chat tomorrow morning? We may have a bit of a problem.”

“I’m free for coffee but let me guess… Geneva?”

“However did ye ken?” Jamie gave a humourless laugh and grimaced. “Aye, we think Geneva went fer a job interview in Manchester. What if she wants tae move away? Tae Manchester? She canna take ma son away, there must be laws, something we can do.”

“Jamie, don’t panic.” John’s voice was calm, reassuring. “There are things you can do. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but you’re right to find out the options early.”

“Lessons learnt, John… lessons learnt. Well, thanks for that. See ye tomorrow, about ten, aye?”

“Bye Jamie, Claire. I will be expecting those good croissants, by the way.”

The phone call ended, Jamie breathed a huge sigh.

Claire could still feel the tension in Jamie’s body, the muscles clenched tightly. She ran her fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders and neck, her hands seeking out the knots caused by Louisa’s intimations. Jamie groaned in pleasure as her thumbs massaged a particularly tender spot.

Her hands stopped their movements. “Listen. Why don’t you go and have a long, hot shower? Let the water get rid of all that tension.”

Jamie didn’t really need any time to think about this suggestion. His plans for the evening, originally scuppered by Louisa, now seemed to be falling back into place - he’d had a fun evening with his son, there was a glass of wine in his hand, he was about to take a long, hot shower. There was just one part of the plan missing.

He reached over his shoulder and grabbed Claire’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“There’s jes’ one more thing I need fer the shower…”

“What’s that?”

“A naked lady in there with me… ye ken anyone who can oblige?”

“You go upstairs. I’m sure I know someone who’s willing to help out.”

Jamie turned and kissed Claire’s mouth. A kiss, tender at first but building in passion and intensity. She pulled away.

“Go on, get the shower running. I’ll be up to join you.”

At the doorway, Jamie hesitated.

“Dinna be too long, Sassenach. Ye dinna want me tae start without ye.”


	16. A Considered Countermeasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have all had a great Christmas and wishing you a Happy New Year. After a short hiatus last weekend, this story is now back, picking up where we left them
> 
> Hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the feedback on this story. I do appreciate it.
> 
> Thanks as always to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for all their support.

_'It wasn’t until ten years ago that they replaced trial by ordeal here with trial by lawyer, and that was only because they found that lawyers were nastier.'_  
Terry Pratchett - _The Fifth Elephant_

It was a bleary-eyed Jamie who made his way downstairs the next morning. The night had been a mixed bag as far as he was concerned. The good points were obvious -- naked Claire in the shower, quickly followed by naked Claire on the… well, not quite on the bed. They hadn’t managed to get that far, more like naked Claire on the patch of carpet just inside their bedroom. 

Totally spent, Jamie had crawled into bed and succumbed to a deep, almost comatose slumber, only to be woken by Claire’s elbow nudging him in the ribs and mumbling in a sleep-filled voice that his son was awake and needed tending. 

William’s demands had disturbed Jamie’s sleep twice more. With a clean nappy and a full belly, he had seemed to be looking for physical comfort from his father. Sitting on the rocking chair, Jamie had cuddled the baby against the bare skin of his chest until William’s whimpering ceased and his eyelids closed before gingerly placing him back in his cot, handling him as carefully as an unexploded bomb and tiptoeing back to his bedroom to spoon Claire once more.

Jamie couldn’t help but smile at the memory of his and Claire’s shower damp bodies joining together. Their passion so great that even the two yards to their bed had been too long a distance to bridge. He rubbed his hip through the thin fabric of his sleep shorts, wincing slightly. Carpet burns were an occupational hazard with ‘al fresco’ passion, but well worth it. He wondered if Claire’s knees had suffered the same fate.

He could hear Claire pottering about in the kitchen over the sound of the radio playing a Spice Girls’ track. She was oblivious as he opened the door and stood there watching her gyrate her hips in time to ‘Wannabe’ as she stared into the fridge. William studied his father over her shoulder, a slightly furrowed brow denoting, in Jamie’s mind, the baby’s bemusement at their Sassenach’s antics.

Having clearly found what she was looking for, she shut the fridge and spun around.

“Zigazig ah -- oh, Jamie, you startled me. How long have you been standing there?” She handed a chilled toy to William who immediately put it in his mouth and began to gnaw ferociously on it.

“No’ long, Sassenach, jes’ enough tae enjoy the cabaret with ye shaking yer booty.” He yawned and stretched. “Why did ye no’ wake me up?”

“We thought we’d let you sleep in. It must have been quite a tiring night for you, what with William and everything…” 

“Aye… everything…” 

Jamie took William from her. “And ye’ve changed him too.”

“Yes, all fed and watered. I think he’s teething. That's why he wasn’t too good in the night. Look how red his cheek is… and the dribble. That teething ring’s been in the fridge so it’s nice and cool on his gums.”

“Plenty of dribble, right enough.”

Jamie glanced at his bare shoulder, now sprayed with a layer of William’s drool. He lifted the baby above his head and stared him in the eye. “Ye’re a wee tyke, are ye no?”

William took the ring from his mouth, smiled and watched as a line of drool slowly descended onto his father’s face. 

Claire laughed. “Go and take a shower. Then you can go and get those croissants that John likes so much. We may well be owing him big time.”

“Geneva’s still not rung. She kens the bairn is fine. She kens exactly what I want to talk to her about. Christ, I’m going tae try her again.”

Jamie handed the baby back to Claire and stalked out of the kitchen.

************

William, safe in his father’s lap, stared solemnly across the table at John. No amount of face pulling could induce a smile as he chewed his teething ring.

“Have ye no’ a smile fer yer Uncle John, William?” Jamie asked as he wiped the baby’s chin. “Ye ken him well.”

John grinned and waggled his fingers, with no acknowledgement from the baby.

“Claire reckons he’s teething.” Jamie spoke apologetically to his friend.

“No ‘reckon’ about it, he is teething. Trust me, I’m a doctor.” Claire playfully punched Jamie’s arm.

John laughed. “Don’t worry, Jamie. William’s wise to be suspicious when there’s lawyers about. So, tell me again, what did Geneva say when you spoke to her?”

Jamie sighed. “Weel, she wouldna confirm or deny anything about moving. She did say that there were changes with the PR company she works fer and that she would let us know as soon as there was anything to tell. But if she thinks I’m going tae sit back and let her take ma son away without a fight, she is sorely mistaken.”

Instinctively, Jamie pulled William closer to him and kissed the soft red down on his head. The baby squirmed against his father’s arms, trying to break free from the tight embrace. Jamie relaxed his hold and William immediately stilled once more, now content in his father’s lap, let his teething ring drop to the floor and began to try to fit his fist into his mouth.

John studied their interaction over the rim of his coffee mug. An unknown feeling crept over him, settling in his stomach. Mixed in with his usual, deeply hidden lust and longing for Jamie came a sense of… John struggled to identify it… of yearning and even broodiness. That image across the table from him -- the familiar muscled body and strong features of the man John had known, and longed for, for years but now in a different, and possibly even more attractive role, as a father. 

John was momentarily overwhelmed by the depth of this emotion. He wanted to be part of this picture, to be part of this family. Not to replace Claire, he liked and respected Claire and realised she was a worthy partner for Jamie. It was just sometimes so hard… he wanted what Claire had got. Perhaps it was time he reevaluated his life style, looked for something more substantial that his meaningless flings, found a partner, a home, maybe even a baby.

John blushed as he realised how intent his stare had been. He shrugged and tried to make light of it. “Poor little chap, being told to smile at a strange lawyer when you’re in pain. I certainly wouldn’t want to.”

John paused and pulled a small notepad from his leather messenger bag. He flicked over a few pages before finding what he was looking for.

“Right, so, I had a quick chat with Ned Gowan after you rang last night. He said to tell you that even though he was giving advice to you through me, he, most generously, wouldn’t be billing you for it. And that he hoped that he won’t be seeing you in his office any time soon.”

Jamie grimaced. “Me neither, John. So, what’s the score?”

“Well, it’s not the simplest, but, if Geneva does decide to move away and take William, there are things you can do. If she wants to move abroad she definitely does need your consent.”

Jamie gave a slight sigh of relief.

“Wait,” John continued. “That’s for outside the UK. She can move away in this country without your consent-“

“That’s no’ right. I am his father. I should have some rights.” 

Jamie passed the baby to Claire. He leant forward in his chair and ran his fingers through his ginger curls. He screwed his mouth up in disgust at his perceived view of the legal system.

“And you do. In this case, Ned would apply to the courts for an emergency Prohibited Steps Order to stop the move or delay it significantly. What Geneva would probably do then would be to apply for a Specific Issues Order to allow the move.”

“And the courts would have tae decide?”

“Yes.” John nodded.

“Weel, I’m sure they’d be in favour of the mother.” Jamie’s shoulders fell perceptibly.

“Not necessarily. They would be considering William’s best interests with any move, not any career advancement of Geneva’s. And the fact that you have joint custody and…”

John looked across at the baby on Claire’s lap. William was watching his father intently.

“... and are a hands-on and fully involved father would certainly be included in their decisions.”

“So, what do we do now?” Claire spoke quietly, placing a reassuring hand on Jamie’s knee.

“Now,” John replied. “We wait. We can’t do anything until Geneva says something. And remember, it’s not even definite yet.”

Jamie wiped his hand across his face. “Ye ken she’ll be willing tae take this all the way, to the courts if need be.”

“She didn’t go to court before.” Claire reminded him.

“Aye, But that was different. She kent she would have tae lie on oath then. There’d be no lying involved this time… jes’ Geneva going all out tae get what she wants, as per usual. And with her mother backing her up all the way.”

John glanced at his watch. “You don’t know that yet. Look, don’t worry about it yet. We have plans in place. And now, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Hot date, is it, John?”

John reddened slightly. “Yes, actually. Well, just a date, nothing serious.” 

He thought about his earlier feelings of yearning and broodiness. Time, perhaps, for a change.

***************  
Jamie tried to push any thoughts of Geneva from his mind and enjoy his weekend with William.

The parent and baby swimming session was a real success as far as Jamie was concerned. Initially a bit grumpy as his father got him ready, William gradually relaxed once in the water, enjoying the freedom of movement and not even minding as the water splashed around his face.

At first, Jamie had felt a bit out of place in the predominantly female group but quickly forgot that awkwardness as he focussed on his son. He was occasionally aware of female eyes on him, their gaze raking over his body. But this was generally fleeting as the mothers quickly turned their attention back to the babies.

Driving home with a sleeping William in the back of the car, Jamie reflected on the success of the swimming lesson. He hoped this would become a regular activity, one that Claire could share, perhaps every fortnight when they had William on a Sunday — Jamie’s stomach suddenly turned over unpleasantly. _For how long, though? What if Geneva…? _He couldn’t bear to think of that possibility.

_It was ironic,_ he told himself. When Geneva first told him that she was pregnant, it was almost the worst news he had ever received. Only the death of his mother had been a bigger blow. He had never asked, or even contemplating asking, Geneva about an abortion, but just wished, with all his heart, that the situation would somehow magically disappear. It was only when he heard the foetal heartbeat for the first time that he felt a warmth towards this new life. A warmth which increased and expanded into this deep, deep love.

And now… now, the thought of William not being part of his life was almost more than he could bear.

He didn’t mention these worries to Claire. It was as if, by saying them out loud, he was making them a reality.

***********  
On Monday evening, Jamie had just put William -- freshly bathed and clad in a Winnie the Pooh sleepsuit -- in his cot for the night, when his phone rang. Jamie stepped into his bedroom to answer it.

Geneva’s voice was crisp and business-like.

“Hello. Is William doing ok?”

“Aye, he’s champion. Jes’ gone tae sleep now. Nae problem. Why are ye ringing?” Jamie asked nervously.

Geneva hesitated for a moment. “I thought I should tell you straight away. I’ve been offered a promotion at work… it’s in Manchester.”


	17. A Conceivable Estrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year. I hope 2020 is a good one for you all.
> 
> So, Chapter 17… probably about 6 more to go (still writing it , aargh). I have it mapped out in my head, it’s just getting it down that’s the problem!
> 
> Thank you for reading and thanks as always to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their support

_“You'll stay with me?'  
Until the very end,' said James.”_

-J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

Jamie slumped onto the bed.

“Wha- what did ye say?” 

“I said I’ve been offered a promotion—” Geneva began.

“Aye, I heard ye and I’m asking ye what did ye say… what did ye tell them?” Jamie interrupted impatiently.

“Oh, I’m taking a bit of time to consider it. Weigh it all up, you know.”

“And what about William?”

“Of course you’d still be able to see him.” Geneva sounded calm.

Jamie breathed deeply, trying to quell the wave of nausea that was currently overpowering him.

“Hello… are you still there?” Geneva broke the silence.

“Aye, I’m still here. Still here in Glasgow, over two hundred miles from Manchester. Ma son would be two hundred miles away from me. How would that work? I wouldna be able tae see him every week.”

Geneva dismissed his concerns. “I’m sure we could come to an alternative arrangement, if I accepted the job.”

Jamie could feel his nails digging into his palm as she spoke. “I tell ye this, Geneva, we have joint custody and I willna let that go without a fight. I am prepared tae do whatever it takes fer my son… whatever it takes.”

He abruptly ended the call and threw the phone onto the bed.

Claire caught the tail end of the phone call as she came into the bedroom. She joined Jamie on the bed, leaning her back against the headboard. Jamie, ashen faced, scooted up the bed to rest his head in her lap. She stroked his curls.

“That was Geneva. She’s been offered a job in Manchester. She's considering it. Probably holding out fer more money.” He spoke bitterly.

“I gathered that was what the call was about.”

“She thinks we can come tae ‘_an alternative arrangement’_ over William.” Jamie mimicked Geneva’s accent.

He shifted slightly and moved his hand to rest on Claire’s thigh, lightly drawing delicate circles with his fingers against the worn fabric of her old leggings. No matter what the situation, she was a balm to his soul, her very presence giving comfort to him. Even this...

“Ye ken,” Jamie spoke softly. “I didna want a bairn. I mean, I did want a bairn but in the future and with someone I loved.”

Claire’s hand found his and squeezed it.

Jamie continued. “Aye, a bairn planned and wanted… with love. No’ like this, definitely no’ with Geneva. When she told me, it felt like ma world had ended, ma future wi’ ye. And it was all ma stupid fault. I didna want a bairn. All I could think was about us, what it would do tae us. Am I terrible tae admit that? I was sae worried it would come between us, that ye’d walk away. I wanted the whole situation tae jes’ go away. But I kent that I had responsibilities and I tried tae do the right thing fer everybody. Until he arrived, I never realised how much I would love him. And now he's here and I fought hard tae be in his life. I'm no' giving that up."

Claire remained silent, lost in her own thoughts and memories of the past twelve months.

“Have I shocked ye? D’ye think me bad tae say these things?” Jamie asked worriedly. He lifted his head to study Claire’s face.

She shook her head, chewing her lower lip. It seemed to be time for confessions.

“You haven’t shocked me. Everything you felt was perfectly natural. You didn’t choose the situation, you were forced into it… stepping into the unknown. And, to be honest, it felt like my world had ended too. I’d found someone to build a future with and then you hit me with the news. I nearly walked away.”

She could feel Jamie’s body tense as she spoke those words.

“But,” she continued. “I didn’t... I couldn’t. I decided you were what I wanted, so I had to stay. I had to accept what had happened. I can’t tell you how resentful I was of Geneva… watching her carrying your child, growing bigger, feeling it kick. Those experiences… they should have been mine.”

Her voice cracked. “And worrying at first about her hold on you. Would you leave me for the baby?”

“Sassenach, why did ye no’ tell me this?”

“I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I don’t think. Plus I wanted to remain strong, support you, dealing with Geneva and her mother. Then once he was born and they were playing their vindictive little games, I had to be strong not just for you, but for William too. I couldn’t bear the thought of him growing up not knowing how much you loved him.”

“Ye’re a rare woman, Claire. Everything ye did was fer me and William.”

She nodded as Jamie reached up and stroked his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear.

She cleared her throat. “But now, Jamie, it’s different. Now I know William and love him too. What I do now isn’t just for you and your son, it’s for me. So, I say, if Geneva does try and take him away, we fight that bitch every inch of the way.”

*****************  
Jamie pushed William in his pram around the country park, keeping up a running commentary as they passed various animal enclosures. He finally paused for breath and noticed that William had fallen asleep at some point. The commentary had been necessary, despite William’s apparent disinterest in any of the animals and preference for the strap of the changing bag which, even now, was clutched in his dimpled fist. It had stopped his mind from focusing on anything else… like the fact that these father-son bonding days would reduce once William started nursery next week, or once (or if) Geneva moved to Manchester.

Anticipating Geneva’s decision, Jamie had already rung Ned Gowan’s office to make an appointment for later in the week. This time he was taking no chances and was not going to rely on Geneva’s ability to ‘do the right thing’.

And he was dreading seeing her this evening to drop William off, and to have to pretend to be civil was more than he could bear. At least, once William was in nursery, his meetings with her would reduce.

Jamie looked down at his son, still sleeping peacefully. Civility be damned with Geneva! He was going to say exactly what he felt when he saw her later.

******************  
By the time Jamie pulled up outside Geneva’s house, he was quietly seething. He was determined not to make a scene in front of William, but had geared himself up for an unpleasant conversation.

Geneva opened the door as soon as he knocked. Without a word she took the car seat from Jamie and kissed William, tickling his chubby cheeks, and smiling in response to his gummy grin.

Jamie was shocked at Geneva’s appearance. Never usually less than perfect, her face was pale, her eyes red rimmed with black mascara tracks smudging her cheeks. She made way to give him access into the hall.

A voice called from the living room. “Is that my grandson? Geneva, bring him to me.”

Geneva glanced at Jamie and then took William to his grandmother. Jamie waited awkwardly, keen to say his piece but, preferably, out of earshot of Louisa. He could hear a low murmur of voices followed by an angry and somewhat loud exclamation of ‘fine’ from Louisa as a full stop to the conversation.

Geneva returned to Jamie and beckoned him into the kitchen, quietly shutting the door behind her.

“Geneva, I need tae talk tae—” Jamie began.

Geneva interrupted. “Jamie, I’ve made a decision. I’m not taking the job in Manchester. I’m staying here.”

Jamie stared at her, stunned into silence. Having geared himself up for a fight, he felt momentarily numb before a feeling of elation and relief washed over him.

“Oh, weel,” he stumbled over the words. “Er… I dinna ken what tae say… thank ye.”

“I didn’t do it for you, you know.” Geneva was quick to clarify. “I did it for my son. I was never close to my father. Isobel was more Daddy’s girl, I always seemed to be with Mummy. I sometimes wonder what…how things might...”

She blinked rapidly, her eyes bright with tears. Her voice faded away, leading to an awkward silence. Jamie shifted slightly and looked around the immaculate kitchen, unsure what to say next.

It was Geneva that broke the silence. Her voice was back to its usual brisk tone. 

“Anyway, I tried to negotiate for remote working… to stay here in Glasgow, but they need a presence with the clients actually in Manchester. So I had to decline it. Another opportunity will come up here, I’m sure.”

“And Louisa?” Jamie sensed this was the cause of Geneva’s distress.

“Well, Mummy hasn’t taken it too well. She’s only half an hour from Manchester, so you can imagine what she was hoping for.”

Jamie grimaced then realised and tried to assume a neutral expression. “Ah, I can imagine.”

He continued to talk as Geneva led the way out. “Anyway, I have tae thank ye again fer considering what’s in William’s best interests.”

As they entered the hall, Louisa stepped out of the living room.

“I think he needs changing.” She studiously ignored Jamie and passed the rather smelly baby to Geneva.

“Right so, I can drop him off on Sunday evening. I’ll email you about what he needs for nursery.” Geneva headed up the stairs.

“Bye William. Da will see you Sunday. And Geneva… thanks.”

Louisa waited until Geneva was in William’s room before she finally acknowledged Jamie’s presence.

“I hope you’re happy,” she hissed, her face screwed up in a mask of petty vindictiveness. “My daughter is throwing away career opportunities because of you. She’d still have let you see him, you know, if she’d taken the Manchester job.”

“Aye, I dare say.” Jamie drew himself up to his full height and stared down at Louisa. Instinctively she took a step back. “I dare say I’d be able to see him every month or so, but dinna forget we have joint custody and, make no mistake, I would have fought ye every inch of the way in any court in the land. Fer all the traps and games the two of ye have played over the last year, this is the first decent thing that yer daughter has done. Ye should be proud of that. Instead ye’re giving her grief because she willna be next door tae ye in England.”

Louisa had not quite finished. “But what about William? What will happen when you and your _‘doctor’_ girlfriend have children of your own? Will you and your family still be as keen to have him around? Would you fight for him then?”

Jamie blanched at Louisa’s insinuations. “William is ma flesh and blood. He will be ma son whether Claire, my _‘fiancée’_ and I have one or four or twelve children. To think that I would ever treat him differently is one of the biggest insults ye could have paid me.”

He opened the front door and stepped outside. “Ye will always be William’s grandmother and have a place in his life, but ye dinna have a place in mine and I hope ye remember that.”  
************

Claire waited nervously for Jamie’s return. She knew that he was planning on some straight talking to Geneva and hopefully then they would be in a better position for the meeting with Ned Gowan.

“Again,” Claire sighed to herself. “Do we have to go through all this every year?”

From her seat in the living room, she heard Jamie come in and go straight to the kitchen. She quickly followed to find him pouring two glasses of champagne.

She looked quizzically at him and pointed at the champagne. “Why?”

Jamie handed her a glass and took a sip himself. “Celebrating. Geneva has refused the job… fer William’s sake, no’ mine. I dinna care what reason. He’s no’ leaving me. Louisa is furious. Blames me fer it, of course. I dinna care about that either.”

Claire took a large gulp, coughing as the bubbles tickled her throat. “So, we are actually celebrating that nothing is changing?”

“Aye, and Geneva stood up tae her mother and did the right thing… with no lawyer present.”

“And,” Jamie put the glass down and wrapped his arms around Claire’s waist, bending slightly to nuzzle her neck. “With the money we dinna have tae spend on Ned, how about a wee trip tae Loch Lomond this Saturday night? Nice hotel, a few drinks, good food and then...”

“And then?” Claire teased, nibbling his ear lobe.

“And then, we can go up tae our room, I can pull ye on tae ma lap and we can talk about the first thing that pops up.”

Claire snorted with laughter. “Hmm, Mr. Fraser. Sexy you may be, subtle you most definitely aren’t.”


	18. An Exquisite Ensemble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday. Hope it's a good one.
> 
> Time to do some wedding planning stuff... it's all about the frock!
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve. @wickedgoodbooks and to you all for reading, kudos and commenting. I appreciate you all.

_Anthony Marantino: "You want pasta, you go to Little ltaly. You want wedding, you go Wang."_  
Sex and the City

Claire staggered into the living room, her arms full of magazines which she unceremoniously dumped onto the coffee table.

Jamie raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Little light reading there, Sassenach? Bit different from the usual blood and gore.”

He picked up an issue of _You and Your Wedding_ and flicked through the glossy pages, pausing on a page entitled ‘The Ultimate Guide to Bridal Lingerie’.

“Mebbe I’ll jes’ be having a look through these meself. Some interesting articles here,” he said as his eyes focused on an Agent Provocateur demi cup plunge bra with matching thong.

Claire sighed. “Geillis got them for me. She can’t believe that I haven’t bought my dress yet. She reckons it’s the single most important choice I make.”

Jamie tore his attention away from the magazine. “I canna believe it either. I thought ye’d be sorted by now.”

“But it’s because everyone tells me how important the dress is. What style do I go for? How am I expected to know? And when we look back in thirty years’ time, I don’t want us to laugh at my choice. So, Geillis is taking me shopping. And apparently, we’re not coming home until the dress is chosen.”

“Weel, I know ye’ll be stunning whatever ye wear.”

He stood up and stretched. “I’m off fer a quick shower before Geneva drops William here. I’m that sweaty from the gym. And Geneva wants tae talk about the bairn’s first day at nursery tomorrow.”

“And,” Jamie paused and turned dramatically in the doorframe. “Fer yer information, the dress isna the most important choice, Sassenach. Ye already made it when ye said yes in Ned’s office.”

Claire settled herself on the sofa and picked one of the magazines at random. Opening Brides magazine, she studied the images, hoping for sudden inspiration. So many decisions… long, short, slinky, strapless, ivory, blush, white. _And how would she manage in one of these frocks all day,_ she asked herself. _How would she even go to the loo?_

She was normally so sure of her decisions, but this was totally outside of her comfort zone. Claire sighed again. Thank goodness for Geillis. Without her, Claire had a feeling that she would be totally lost in this minefield of satin and lace.

The sound of the doorbell pulled Claire from her musings. Abandoning her magazines, she made for the front door, only pausing at the bottom of the stairs to call for Jamie, with no response -- the sound of the shower drowning out her summons.

She pasted a cool, polite smile on her face as she opened the door to Geneva. The smile as she bent to greet William, squirming in his car seat, was, however, full of genuine warmth.

Claire straightened up. “Hello, Geneva. Please come in.”

Geneva led the way into the living room.

“Jamie’s just having a shower,” Claire explained as Geneva placed the car seat on the floor and began to unstrap the baby.

Geneva turned to respond and noticed the selection of bridal magazines strewn across the coffee table.

“Little late in the day to be having second thoughts about the dress,” she commented, idly picking up one of the magazines.

“No,” Claire quickly clarified. “I’ve not bought the dress yet. I’m going this week with my best friend.”

Geneva appeared stunned. “But… surely not. You need at least four months for a bespoke gown. I suppose one could get away with three months… if one was a standard sample size, for example.” 

She eyed Claire’s hips disparagingly.

Claire smiled politely and tried to remain calm. “Oh, I don’t want a bespoke or designer dress. I think Debenhams has a good selection.”

Geneva barely suppressed a shudder. 

“Oh, off the peg.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head dramatically as if trying to remove this incredibly distasteful image from her brain. 

Claire said nothing in response. There was nothing to say. This was her wedding, planned exactly how she and Jamie wanted and no snide little digs from Geneva would make her change a single thing about the day. Yes, it would be totally different from any wedding Geneva may plan… a different groom for example… 

Geneva finally managed to overcome her abhorrence and opened her eyes. She glanced at the magazines once more before lifting the edge of one to reveal a set of photos underneath. Deliberately she picked them up, slowly studying each glossy image, the photographer capturing different aspects of the subject’s character reflected in those amber eyes -- the laughter, the dreams, the warmth, the knowing glint.

“You've been photographed by Simon Winchester?” Geneva asked, somewhat incredulously. She touched the photograph’s watermark as if to check it’s authenticity. “But he rarely does private commissions.”

“Aye, weel…” Jamie entered and immediately picked a slightly disgruntled William up, lifting him high in the air and blowing raspberries against the baby’s tummy.

William, content to be the centre of attention once more, chuckled happily and pawed at his father’s face.

Jamie continued as he snuggled the baby close to his chest. “Weel, it was fer our latest advertising campaign… in Japan. We decided tae use Claire as our model. Her eyes match the whisky. And I canna think of a better combination… the wildness of the heather clad hills, the powerful complex flavours of the dram and the beauty and honesty of those eyes. The windows to the soul, are they no’?”

Geneva bit her lip as she carefully placed the photos back on the table. 

“What a wonderful idea,” she exclaimed, her tone giving an indication of her true sentiments. “Congratulations, Claire, what an exceptional opportunity for you to work with such a talented photographer. And, I must say…”

She glanced down at the photos again.

“... he really is a master of photoshopping techniques.”

Jamie made no response, trying to ignore that comment, born out of simple jealousy, and considered moving the subject on to William’s first full day at nursery. He looked across at Claire, a small amused smile playing across her lips as she watched Geneva studying the photos. She was obviously willing to rise above Geneva’s petty spite… Jamie decided he wasn’t. He wanted Geneva to know what he thought.

“No photoshop needed at all, Geneva. ‘Tis all natural. And I ken they’ll be a big hit in all the Japanese advertising… those eyes… seen and admired by millions.”

He paused for a moment to let his comments register with Geneva.

“Right, so, William’s first full day at nursery. What do I need tae know?”

**********  
“She said what?” Geillis spluttered as she quickly put her coffee cup back on the table. “Photoshop, how dare she? That’s pure spite, that is. She’s only jealous because Jamie wouldna have ever wanted her tae do that. Sae, what happened then?”

“Well, that was pretty much it. Jamie put her right on the whole photoshopping thing and then they started talking about William.”

“But, come on, Claire,” Geillis persisted. “Admit it. Ye must have had a wee bit of satisfaction from it. Rubbing her nose in it, like?”

“Well, I didn’t rub her nose in it. I played it low key. But,” Claire smiled at the memory. “Yes, it was really damn satisfying. Especially when she’d already made snide comments about me not going for a designer wedding dress, but an _‘off the peg’_... and cast dubious glances at the size of my hips.”

“But G,” she continued. “Does it bother you, as my maid of honour, not having an expensive designer dress?”

Geillis patted Claire’s hand comfortingly. “Dinna fash. This is yer day and ye’re going tae wear whatever ye want. It doesna bother me at all. All I want is tae see ma best friend wed the man that she loves. And I will wear whatever ye want me tae wear.”

“Mind ye,” Geillis added with a wink. “With ma natural style and grace, I could make a bin bag look haute couture. Now, come on, drink up. We are no’ going home until we’ve found the dress fer ye.”

**********

Claire perched awkwardly on the upholstered chair in the changing room, trying hard not to look in any of the many mirrors, currently reflecting her underwear-clad image from every angle. _Although_ \-- she sneaked a peek -- _at least she had remembered to wear one of her better (and matching) sets of underwear for this occasion._

It had been an inspired decision of Geillis’s to book an appointment with the store’s personal shopper, resulting, clearly, in a better class of changing room, complete with plush upholstery, gilt edged mirrors and a proper wooden door, rather than a curtain not quite wide enough for the frame.

The personal shopper (_“Och, call me Diane, I’ve a feeling we’ll be here fer hours!_) had gone on a quest for an assortment of gowns, with Geillis in tow, unwilling to trust Diane’s professional instincts.

A tap at the door heralded the arrival of the frocks. Geillis led the way, followed by a long rack pushed by Diane, a plethora of sequins, satin and lace cascading from the hangers. Claire’s heart sank at the abundance of frills.

Geillis gave a shrug. “They werena all ma choice, ye ken.”

Diane gave a bright smile. “Och, I ken ye said simple but there’s nae harm in looking, is there? And ye canna always tell until ye’ve the dress on.”

Claire began rifling through the dresses, muttering to herself as she passed each one by. Suddenly her hands stilled, and she took a step back, casting her eyes up and down the dress now on display.

“This is it.” Claire stated simply.

“Ok,” Diane began to remove the dress from its protective plastic. “Ye canna say this is the one, but it’s a start. Ye pop yerself behind that screen and we’ll try it on ye.”

Claire felt a thrill of excitement as she watched Diane unzip the dress and then slowly lower it for her to step into. The ivory fabric slid easily over her curves as the zip was fastened once more.

“Like a glove,” Diane breathed as she beckoned Claire from behind the screen towards the full length mirrors.

Claire gazed at her reflection. The ivory satin overlaid with a delicate lace skimmed the contours of her body. The Bardot neckline enhanced the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders. A trail of tiny buttons led down her back towards the swell of her bottom. Gently fitted to her curves, it fell to the ground before flaring out slightly into a small train.

She tentatively took a couple more steps in the dress, testing the freedom of movement. Geillis watched, her eyes glistening with moisture.

“Christ, Claire,” Geillis exclaimed. “It’s breathtaking.”

Claire turned to her. “This is it,” she repeated.

“I’ll admit, ye look awfa bonnie in that dress, but ye canna be trying on jes’ one dress.” Diane gestured to the large rack.

Claire sighed, unwilling to take the dress off. Finally, she agreed, allowing Diane to put it back in it’s plastic covering and continued to rifle through the rack. Towards the back, she pulled out another hanger and passed it to Diane.

“I’ll try this one on then.”

Claire twirled in front of the mirror, watching the full skirt float around her before coming to a halt to critically study the dress.

It was, in Claire’s mind, undoubtedly a very nice dress. She had always been very fond of the Grecian style and in many ways it would be a more practical dress -- definitely easier to go to the loo and she wouldn’t have to wear a strapless bra with it. And yet…

She looked across at Geillis, who smiled politely. “Aw, it’s a nice dress, but…”

Claire smiled. “I know. That’s how I feel.”

She turned to Diane. “I know you think I should try on loads more dresses and really look around, but I love that first dress so much. I feel wonderful in it. Nothing’s going to be better than that.”

“And ye look so beautiful in it, Claire. I ken ye’re making the right choice.” Geillis agreed.

*********

Claire sipped her coffee happily. “I can't believe how easy that was. That dress is everything I wanted. And I can pick it up next week.”

“Aye, no’ much more tae do today.”

“What do you mean? Oh, of course your dress, Geillis. I was thinking bronze, satin… you can choose the style.”

Geillis licked the smears of chocolate brownie from her fingers. “Och, I ken exactly which dress I want. I’ve done ma research, ye ken. No, I mean ye, we still have the get yer underwear. A little gift for yer husband tae unwrap on yer wedding night. Start yer married life with a bang.”

Claire laughed. “And I suppose you have just the items in mind.”

“As a matter of fact I do… demure yet sexy, innocent yet hot, virginal yet wanton. Yer man will thank me right enough.”

“Well, lead me to this magical lingerie.” Claire began to gather her bags up, preparing to leave the café.

She paused. “And G, thank you for this, for all this. You’re my best friend and I can’t think of anyone better to share this with.”

Instinctively, Geillis gave Claire a warm hug. “Ye’re more than a friend, Claire. Like it or no’, ye’re family.”


	19. A Juvenile Costuming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter, full of fluffy fluffiness.  
Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for their support.

_CHANDLER: Hi. Anybody know a good tailor?  
JOEY: Needs some clothes altered?  
CHANDLER: No, no, I'm just looking for a man to draw on me with chalk.  
JOEY: Why don't you go see Frankie? My family's been goin' to him forever. He did my first suit when I was 15. No wait, 16. No, 'scuse me, 15. All right, when was 1990?  
CHANDLER: You have to stop the Q-tip when there's resistance!_

_Friends_

Wee Jamie sat quietly in the back of the car, content for the moment to watch the passing scenery and listen to the conversation in front between his da and his uncle.

He didn’t understand all they were talking about but that didn’t matter. He felt like, this weekend, he was one of the men, for once not bundled together with his sister and now his wee cousin, having to be looked after by his mam. He still wasn’t totally clear on how William was his uncle’s baby, but not Claire’s. 

Alex, at pre-school, had told him that his mam and da had a special cuddle to make a baby, but that couldn’t be right. He had never seen his Uncle Jamie cuddle anyone but Claire, and they seemed to spend a very, very lot of time cuddling, in his opinion.

He returned his attention to the conversation in the car. His da was talking with his usual calm voice but Uncle Jamie seemed a wee bit cross. He hoped he wasn’t angry at Care Bear, or Mam or even _him_.

“I tell ye… the nerve of that man, suggesting himself tae visit Lallybroch for that article. I dinna want him anywhere near, Ian. I mean it. I gave him a chance at that fundraiser. I didna punch him but that doesn’t mean I want tae have anything tae do with him again. I hope ye told him he wasna welcome at all.”

Wee Jamie could see his uncle’s hands, resting on his jeans clad legs, balled tightly into fists.

And now his Da was talking. “Dinna fash. I told ye, man, it’s sorted. Jenny spoke tae Malva again and suggested that it would be better fer a more… er… balanced article if one of Tom’s team visited and wrote it. He willna come. And, it’s agreed, the article will be in the December issue. Jes’ in time fer all those Christmas present ideas.”

Wee Jamie watched his uncle’s hands relax. Time, he felt, to join in the man talk. He didn’t want them forgetting that he was with them.

“Da, Unca, is this a stag weekend?”

His da laughed, but not in a mean way. Uncle Jamie craned his neck around to look at him and smiled.

“Where d’ye hear that?” he asked between chuckles.

“Well, Alex from preschool, he said that his uncle had a stag weekend afore he got wed. Alex’s dad went on it, but they didna let Alex go. Alex said it was all boys, nae girls at all… and they went on a plane tae Beni… Beni… tae abroad.” 

Wee Jamie was now in full flow, sure of his audience.

“Anyways, when his da came back, he wasna very well. He said it was something he’d ate, but Alex’s mam reckoned it was the ‘dirty beer’ what did it. And Alex’s uncle got a tattoo done… and his auntie was awfa cross about it. It was on his bum.” Wee Jamie whispered the last words before bringing his hand to his mouth in mock horror.

“Weel, now, I willna be having a stag weekend like that…”

“Och but we will be havin a wee night out, in Glasgow.” His da caught his eye in the rear view mirror and winked. “But only for grown ups. Sorry, lad.”

Wee Jamie persisted. “But today, we’re going tae Lallybroch, aye?”

Mumbles of agreement came from the front seats.

“And there’s only us men here, and Grandda and Murtagh?”

“Aye, that’s right.”

“Weel, is that no’ a stag weekend?” Wee Jamie sat back, pleased with his argument.

His uncle turned around once more.

“Ye’re no’ wrong, lad. I canna fault yer logic. How about we call this the family stag weekend with nae dirty beer and definitely nae tattoos?”

Wee Jamie clapped his hands. “Aye. Oh, and Alex’s da told him what happens on tour stays on tour. So, dinna be telling Mam… or Care Bear neither. Promise?”

“Agreed.”

“Aye son, agreed.”

******************  
Jamie looked around the kitchen table, the scene of so many Fraser, and Murray, family moments. Everyone was munching their way through the large pile of sandwiches prepared by Murtagh. It was all so comforting and familiar, but now, whenever he came back to Lallybroch without Claire, it felt like there was something missing, incomplete. She had become such an intrinsic part of the family, in the same way that Ian was, albeit over only eighteen months rather than thirty years.

Wee Jamie helped himself to another sandwich and a handful of cheesy puffs.

“I like it when Murtagh does lunch,” he announced. “He lets me have Wotsits. Mam doesna let me. I’m too messy wi’ the orange dust.”

He wiped a hand across his face. The ring of orange around his mouth and the orange streaks on his cheeks proved the veracity of his mam’s concerns.

“So, why are we going tae the kiltmaker up here? Is there no’ any back in Glasgow?”

Brian ruffled his grandson’s hair affectionately. “Aye, there is. But this kiltmaker’s been here a long, long time. And we Frasers and Murray’s have always used them. When yer da and yer uncle were wee lads, they had their first kilts from here. When I was about yer age, I went with ma da fer ma kilt. Even Murtagh, as a wee boy went there.”

Wee Jamie looked across at Murtagh in amazement. 

“The kiltmaker must be very, very, very old,” he stated solemnly.

“Ye wee gomeril,” Murtagh looked fierce for a moment, brows knitted together before smiling broadly at the little boy.

****************  
The bell rang as the Fraser and Murray men entered the old fashioned establishment. Wee Jamie looked around, mesmerised by the contents of the wooden and glass cabinets. He peered closely into one of them.

“Hey Da, can I have a skin doe?” He asked hopefully.

“Sgian-dubh,” Ian corrected. “And I dinna think yer mam would be too impressed with that idea. Imagine if Maggie got hold of it?”

Reluctantly, the little boy moved to another cabinet. “But can I have a sporran?”

“Aye, Jamie, that'd be fine.”

“Jamie, lad,” Brian joined his grandson to admire the collection of sporrans. “What would ye be using yer sporran fer?”

“Weel, Unca Jamie is teaching me how tae skim stones, so if I see any good flat ones, I can keep them in there.” He had clearly been giving the matter some thought. 

“And mebbe some sweeties,” he added optimistically.

The tailor emerged from a back room and greeted Brian and Murtagh like old friends.

“Good tae see ye,” the old man commented as he shook their hands warmly.

“And ye too, Hector,” Brian agreed. “It’s been a wee while. We’re on tae the next generation now, ye ken. Ma grandson here needs a kilt. It’s fer ma son’s wedding.” 

Hector greeted Jamie and Ian. “Ah, Jamie, so ye’re tae be wed? About time too. See how well Ian looks on married life. Now, I ken the two of ye have yer kilts, so is it jes’ the young gentleman here that we are fitting today?”

He turned to Wee Jamie and shook his hand. “And ye are?”

“James Murray. I’m the ring bear… er fer Unca Jamie and Claire. We’re all gonna stand together. Am I going tae have a kilt the same as ye then, Unca?”

“Och, Master Murray, ye’ll be having the same as yer da. Yer uncle has a Fraser tartan like yer Grandda and Murtagh. Ye and yer da are Murrays, so that’s the tartan we’ll be using. If ye jes’ head intae the fitting room, I’ll be doing some measurements.”

Brian pointed to a door in the far wall. “Ye head in there with yer da, Jamie. We’ll wait fer ye out here.”

Wee Jamie skipped over to the door and beckoned his father to follow.

In a dramatic stage whisper, he asked, “Da, d’ye think I should tell the man I willna be wearing pants under ma kilt? So as I can pee?”

With everyone trying hard not to laugh aloud, Ian patted his son’s head. “No need tae, son,” he stage whispered back. “I think he already kens.”

*************  
“Ye do realise yer lad is snoring in the back.” Jamie turned around to glance at his nephew, fast asleep in his car seat, head lolling awkwardly to one side.

“Aye, I reckon we’ve worn him out this weekend… what with getting measured fer his kilt, and the picnic in the glen today. That was a fair walk tae get there. And he didna complain… much.”

“And the fish and chips. From the chippie, no’ home made, like Mam does.” A sleepy voice piped up from the back seat. “Wi’ gravy too.”

“Aye, son, they were a rare treat.”

Wee Jamie yawned. “And remember… jes’ between us men. Dinna be telling the lasses at all. Promise?”

Jamie and Ian replied in unison. “Aye, Jamie, we promise.”


	20. A Convivial Carousing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as the wedding draws closer, it's time for a hen party.... warning NSFW.
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @happytoobserve, @wickedgoodbooks for the support and to you all for reading, kudos and comments x

_“What's so unpleasant about being drunk?"  
"Ask a glass of water!” _

― Douglas Adams, _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_

Claire thought she had been quite clear about this to Geillis. She distinctly remembered sitting in her office a few weeks ago when the subject had first been broached. Geillis had run through a list of possible suggestions for a hen party; beginning with a weekend in Benidorm (“_imagine, sangria by the bucketful and eye candy in speedos_”) all the way to a meal out with friends (“_nice and safe_”) detouring via an Ann Summers’ sex party (“_It’s jes’ like a Tupperware party, ye ken, but with more cocks_”), skydiving (“_that adrenaline rush, as good as sex, I reckon_”) and a burlesque dance class (“_yer man’ll thank ye fer it later_”).

When Claire had vetoed all the suggestions apart from a meal and drinks with friends, Geillis had then changed tack and began listing some well prepared ideas to “_make the evening go with a bang, aye?_”. Using the power of veto once more, Claire had made clear her thoughts on _‘pin the cock on the hunk’_, any games involving dares or forfeits, any performers of the semi-(or un-)clad variety or costumes announcing that they were a hen party.

Geillis had tutted vociferously but eventually shrugged and agreed to Claire’s conditions.

So, why was she now sitting in this cocktail bar, wearing a sash proclaiming her to be a bride, while sucking her (admittedly rather moreish) cocktail through a plastic penis? She looked along the table at her friends, each wearing a matching sash and all busy writing on cards provided by Geillis, sharing their tips for a sexually successful marriage.

Jenny caught her eye and smiled. “I dinna think I ought tae be suggesting sex tips fer ma baby brother. It’s a wee bit —“

“Yucky? Disturbing?” Isobel ventured.

Geillis just caught the tail end of the conversation. “Only if ye’re doing it right.” 

She winked before resuming her writing.

Claire drained her cocktail and moved on to the next already waiting for her. She studied Geillis over the rim of her glass, noting the glint in her eye as she wrote her contribution on the card. _No doubt sharing some tips from her and Dougal’s activities,_ Claire told herself, _interesting to read but maybe not her and Jamie’s type of thing. _

As Geillis worked her way around the table, gathering up the cards, the door of the bar opened and a ‘fireman’ came in, tall and broad shouldered in his overly tight uniform. He carried his helmet in one hand and a portable speaker in the other. He stood for a moment glancing around before spotting Claire and her friends. He strode towards them, a cheeky grin on his face.

Claire felt herself redden and prayed for the ground to swallow her up. She cursed the sash proclaiming her to be the bride again; she cursed the balloons, spelling out H-E-N, tied to her chair; but most of all, she cursed Geillis, who had promised faithfully that there would be absolutely no adult entertainment this evening.

She glared across at Geillis, who returned her gaze with a confused expression of her own and shook her head slightly. Claire quickly watched the rest of her friends for any knowing smiles.

By now, the fireman had reached their table.

“I’m here on an emergency. Someone,” he looked directly at Claire. “Someone is too hot to handle.”

He sucked the air through his teeth noisily, in a parody of a passionate sigh. Claire did the only thing possible. She drained her cocktail and reached for the next one waiting for her.

“So,” the fireman drawled in a fake American accent, rotating his hips suggestively. “I’m going to have to use my hose… my extra long—“

He stopped abruptly as one of the bar staff tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, gesturing to a room off the main bar area.

Shamefaced, the fireman shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, hen,” he now spoke with a broad Glaswegian accent. “This isna the right party. I’d best be heading.”

His eyes lingered on Geillis, now smiling coquettishly, before he turned and followed the barman. His arrival at the correct party was heralded by a series of loud whoops and cheers, clearly audible even over the hubbub of Saturday night two-for-one cocktail drinkers.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief and felt her stomach muscles unclench. 

“Ye ken, Claire, I wouldna do something like that tae ye.” Geillis patted her hand. “I kent how much ye didna want that kind of thing. So, why don’t we have another cocktail, I’ll collect up the cards and we’ll see what kind of perverts ye have fer friends.”

Whether it was the sheer relief that Geillis had no embarrassing entertainment on the agenda, or the heady mix of cocktails coursing through Claire’s veins, but she finally decided to give in and throw herself wholeheartedly into the silly and potentially embarrassing hen party spirit.

Clearing her throat dramatically, she read each of the cards out loud, everyone trying to guess the originators. Some were obvious; who else but Geillis would have written about, in great graphic detail, a suggestion involving handcuffs, floggers and a black leather dominatrix outfit? And it was clearly Isobel who gave advice about the healing power of a hug. (“_Not necessarily sexual,_” she clarified. “_But vital._”)

But Claire would never have guessed that it was Mary, the shy but efficient theatre nurse, who advised her to have a ‘_toy cupboard_’ next to the bed and always have spare batteries to hand. And as for a now clearly drunk Jenny’s confessions about her role playing adventures with Ian (_a somewhat complex plot involving a Highland warrior and innocent serving wench fleeing the redcoats_), well, Claire felt that was something best kept between the girls, and not to be shared with her future husband.

The rest of the evening passed in a whirl of chatter, laughter and alcohol. Claire knew she was drunk, not steaming drunk like Jenny, whose eyes were closed and her chin propped up with her hands, but in that tipsy phase when everything is wonderful… and shiny... and hilarious… and full of love.

Suddenly the bright overhead lights made Claire’s eyes begin to water. “What’s going on?” She asked.

Geillis began to gather up her belongings. “That’s it. It’s one am. Time tae go home.”

“But… but… can I not have another drink? I liked the..er.. orange one. Can I have another orange one?”

Geillis laughed and picked up Claire’s bags. “Ye’ve had about half a dozen different orange ones, Claire. It’s time fer the taxi.”

“Where’s Jenny?” Claire looked around.

“Ah, Weel, Isobel is seeing her home. I tell ye, it’s jes’ as well ye’ve some sensible friends, otherwise I dinna ken how ye’d go on. C’mon now, taxi’s waiting.”

Claire stood up as Geillis reached across and untied the balloons. Claire grabbed her arms and pulled her close. 

“Can I thank you, G, for tonight, and for… well, for everything.” Her breath was warm on Geillis’s cheek. “You’re a real friend and, amazingly sober, I must say even after…”

Claire tried, unsuccessfully, to peer at her watch over Geillis’s shoulder. “...even after ...after lots and lots and lots of cocktails.”

Geillis kissed her cheek. “Nae bother, I didna have a lot tae drink. I knew ye wasna a big fan of the whole hen party thing and I wanted tae make sure this night was jes’ right fer ye. Now let’s get ye home. Back tae yer fiancé.”

“Thank you, G… have I already said that?” Claire started to follow Geillis out of the bar then stopped abruptly, putting her hand to her mouth.

“What’s the matter? Ye’re no’ going tae puke are ye?” Geillis quickly began to search for a plastic bag.

“No… no, I’m not puking, but, G, imagine… it’s all thanks to you that I’m here, getting married to Jamie. If you hadn’t given him my number in ED, we would never have got together, never dated, never fallen in love…” Claire sniffed and rubbed her eyes.

“Och, away wi’ ye. I tell ye, the pair of ye were born fer each other. Ye would have met either way. Mebbe me giving him yer number was jes’ a shortcut.” Geillis gave Claire a quick hug before pulling away. “Now come on, the taxi driver will have started his meter and I am no’ paying any more than the price I agreed on the phone!” 

************

Jamie glanced at his watch as the doorbell rang. He yawned, stretched and switched the television off before walking to the front door.

The doorbell rang again. As he unlocked the door, it rang for a third time, a prolonged, urgent ring. He opened the door to find Claire giggling as she leant against the door frame, her shoulder pressing into the doorbell.

He waved to Geillis in the waiting taxi before following Claire into the hall. She spun around and flung herself into Jamie’s arms, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Ignoring his sudden exhalation of air, she kissed him noisily on the lips before nuzzling his neck and blowing raspberries against his skin.

“A good night, I take it. And a wee bit drunk too, are we?” Jamie ventured a guess.

Claire pulled away, indignantly. “No, I’m not. Are you? You seem a bit unsteady there on your feet.”

“Well, what have you been drinking then?”

“Oh, some absolutely scrummy cocktails. I started with a slow comfortable screw. Have you had one of those?”

Jamie smiled. “Frequently.”

“How about a slow comfortable screw against the wall?”

“No’ fer a while.”

“And I had a silk panties martini… to match what I’m wearing.” Claire undid the zip on her jeans to confirm.

“Then I had a couple of flaming orgasms… mmm, so good.”

“Ah so, multiple orgasms. I tend tae stick tae the one, myself.” 

“And I think there might have been a slippery nipple in there somewhere,” she hiccuped.

Jamie steered Claire to the stairs. “You head up tae bed, Sassenach.”

“Are you not coming too?” She pouted.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Just locking up.”

***************  
Armed with a bottle of water and two paracetamol for the morning, Jamie entered the bedroom, fully expecting Claire to be fast asleep and snoring. On the contrary, she was still very much awake, lying on top of the covers, clad only in a red thong and matching red bra. The rest of her clothes lay in a heap on the floor.

“See, red silk panties,” she giggled, flicking the elastic on the thong.

“Aye, not quite silk though, jes’ a wee bit of lace as far as I can see. Now, come on, get in tae bed. Ye’ll be needing yer sleep.”

“But I’m not tired,” she protested as she scrambled onto her hands and knees and worked her way down the bed to where Jamie stood. “C’mon, Mr. Fraser, let’s have some fun.”

She knelt up and let her hands run around the waistband of his jogging bottoms, her fingernails lightly raking the skin.

Jamie inhaled deeply. “Claire, Sassenach, no. I dinna want tae take advantage of ye when ye’re drunk.”

“Jamie,” Claire’s voice was stern. “I may have had a few to drink, but I am fully aware of what I am doing...”

She edged the waistband down over his hips, his cock already standing proud. She ran a finger down its length, watching Jamie’s stomach muscles tense as he tried to calm the sensations she was arousing. He could feel her breath warm against his thigh.

“... And so it seems does our friend here. Don’t fight me, Jamie. I’ve had a plastic penis in my mouth for most of the evening. Now it’s time for the real thing.”

Grabbing his buttocks, she pulled Jamie closer to her before bringing one hand to cup his balls, massaging them in her palm. She wrapped her other hand around the base of his cock as she took him fully in her mouth.

Jamie closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to succumb to Claire’s ministrations. The warmth of her mouth as she rhythmically worked up and down, her tongue stroking and caressing made him harder than he thought possible. He entwined his fingers in her wild curls, encouraging her to take more of his length into her mouth. 

He pulled back slightly as he felt his excitement building, keen to try and prolong the experience. Claire moaned, a small mew of disappointment, and brought him closer to her again, resuming the same relentless rhythm.

His breathing grew ragged. “Sassenach,” he groaned. “Sassenach, I canna … I canna…”

She felt his release, warm in her mouth as he stilled then withdrew. Jamie, panting, opened his eyes to see Claire, kneeling back on her heels, her curls in wild disarray, cheeks flushed, breasts nearly escaping from the confines of her bra. Her nipples, dark and erect, were visible through the red lace, her panties clearly damp.

She smiled, a lazy smile of self satisfaction as she swallowed then licked her lips. Jamie gasped at this wanton image in front of him.

“Sassenach,” his voice was husky. “I’ve an idea. Can I get our special camera?”

Claire nodded. “Ooh, yes. I’ve a couple of ideas myself, Mr. Fraser.”

As Jamie went in search of the camera, Claire lay back on the pillows and laughed. _All those tips tonight for a successful sex life, she told herself, and I don’t think we’ll need any help in that area… ever._


	21. A Staggering Circumstance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've had a hen party, time for a stag do.  
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks @happytoobserve @soinpiredbyyou for their support and to you all for reading

_Rudy: Let's have a bachelor party with chicks and guns and fire trucks and hookers and drugs and booze!  
Gary: Yeah! Yeah yeah! All the things that make life worth living for!   
Bachelor Party_

Jamie leant back in his chair and closed his eyes, a finger marking his place in the report he had been reading. He mulled over the recommendations succinctly articulated by Jenny. Ever since her recent fact finding visit to the Macallan distillery, she had been enthusing at every opportunity about the new architecture, technology and design and was preparing a presentation on her vision and proposed five year plan for their own distillery to the Board.

Jamie sighed. The Macallan was certainly impressive, but they were a much bigger outfit and, as part of a larger group, had the finances to support change on this scale. As a smaller, independent distillery, Broch Tuarach was not in that league and, truth be told, Jamie found comfort in the old technology and older buildings. But he did realise that some change certainly would be good for the business. It was all a balancing act really, tradition versus technology, investment versus profit, increased visitors versus spend on amenities.

A ping from his laptop made Jamie open his eyes. He smiled at the email from Claire - just a very brief message (_love you_) plus one attachment. He opened it up. With four weeks to go before the big day, this was the latest version of their wedding planning Excel spreadsheet. He quickly scrolled down looking for the tasks Claire had assigned to him, clearly highlighted in yellow. There were two - he had to pick up thank you gifts for Ian and Wee Jamie and then collect William’s special wedding outfit.

He glanced across at the photographs on his desk - an ever growing range. The latest additions included a black and white snapshot of Claire holding William, laughing as he tried to paw her face, his happy grin clearly displaying his two front teeth and another of himself crouching next to William whose arms were outstretched, waiting for his father to cuddle him. And more photos to be added over the coming weeks, too, without a doubt.

The next four weeks could not pass quickly enough. Jamie longed to see Claire in her wedding dress. He longed to stand up in front of family and friends and make that forever commitment to Claire and to hear her say those words to him. In their day to day lives, nothing would really change, and yet, Jamie knew in his heart of hearts, marriage to his Sassenach would change everything for him… everything.

A slight tap at the office door roused him from his contemplations and, with only a brief pause, Ian came in. Jamie gestured for him to sit.

“I’m no’ disturbing ye, I hope?” 

Jamie shook his head. “Nae. Jes’ digesting this report from Jenny. She has some grand ideas, ye ken.”

“Aye, that’s our Jenny. A woman with a vision, Nae doubt. But I didna come here tae talk about that. I jes’ wanted tae clarify something with ye. I’ve had an email from Angus… about yer stag do.”

“Oh, god. I thought it was all sorted. Curry and pub. That’ll do me fine.”

“Aye, that’s still the plan, but Angus wanted tae tell us about a club that’s jes’ opened that he can get us complimentary tickets fer. It’s called…” Ian consulted his iPad. “... ‘Gentlemen’s Relish’.”

Jamie sighed. “Er, that wouldna be a strip club by any chance?”

“Angus says not. Apparently, it’s a high class establishment frequented by discerning gentlemen requiring sophisticated entertainment.”

Ian showed Jamie the image of the flyer Angus had included as an attachment to his email. Jamie snorted with laughter. 

“Sophisticated entertainment, ma arse. The pictures of those women in gold bikinis… It’s jes’ a lap dancing club. I’m no’ interested. And I dinna think Claire, or Jenny fer that matter, would be too impressed. Let’s stick tae the plan.”

Ian stood up, “ I kent ye’d say that. But I had tae ask. And ye’re right. Chicken Jalfrezi and a few beers is much more ma kind of thing too. Dinna fash, I’ll set Angus straight.”

***************  
Jamie supped his beer contentedly and looked around, catching snippets of conversations from his friends all in various stages of inebriation. His belly was comfortably full of lamb madras, rice and many, many poppadoms and now beer. He belched softly, a sure sign it was time to switch to whisky.

He shifted on the bar stool, trying to fit a wee bit more buttock onto the seat, but gave up and used his long legs to support him instead. That was the only downside of this pub, the seating. But worth it for the old fashioned ambience, the dark wood panelling, the lack of trendy, loud young crowds and, of course, the wide selection of craft beers and single malts. 

Angus was talking animatedly to Rupert. From his elaborate hand gestures, Jamie was fairly certain he was telling Rupert about the ‘_gentlemen’s club_’. Jamie smiled. That wasn’t his idea of a fine evening. The whisky would, no doubt, be overpriced and watered down and however scantily clad and attractive the girls were, it wasn’t his kind of entertainment. _Well,_ he corrected himself, _it would be his kind of entertainment if it was his Sassenach providing the lap dance… a deeper connection there, not just providing a service to a series of nameless punters. _

Jamie shifted, trying to lessen the stirrings in his nether regions at the thought of Claire giving him a personal lap dance. Perhaps he would ask her when he got home, perhaps she would be willing to…

A sudden shoulder shove from behind pushed Jamie off his stool. Struggling to regain his balance, his beer sloshed over the glass and onto the floor, catching the front of his shirt on the way. He turned around, anticipating an apology to be met with a sweaty and, once again, inebriated Tom Christie.

Tom leant fully against Jamie’s now unoccupied bar stool and looked up at him.

“Fraser,” he acknowledged. “Celebrating or commis… commis… drowning yer sorrows? I may have had a couple of nips maself. Is yer girlfriend no’ with ye?”

“Fiancée.” Jamie corrected and offered no further conversation. He put the dregs of his beer on the table.

“Aye, a fine lass, that one. If ye ever change yer mind, pass her ma way, would ye?”

In an instant, Ian was at Jamie’s side, a calming hand now resting on Jamie’s shoulder. At the same time, Tom’s drinking companions joined him.

“I suggest ye get Tom some fresh air and a taxi home.” Ian spoke directly to Tom’s companions.

They hesitated and looked at Tom, now slightly swaying. “Och, he’ll be fine…”

“Now.” Jamie’s voice was harsh. “And that’s no’ a suggestion, mind. Get him out of ma fucking sight.”

He deliberately turned his back on Tom. Ian watched as Tom was, reluctantly, led away. John passed Jamie a large whisky.

“Ye did right, there, Jamie.” Ian reassured him. “He’s no’ worth the effort. And fer some reason, he has it in fer ye.”

“Aye, I dinna ken why.”

“Jealous, most like. He wants tae be ye. Ye have the family distillery, ye’re good looking, if ye like that kind of thing,” Ian joked. “And ye’ve Claire too. Ye need tae let him go and forget it. This is a night tae celebrate, not think about twats like him. And therefore…”

Ian cleared his throat and continued. “So, gentlemen, can we have a toast please tae the man of the moment, who’s finally leaving the single life and getting married in three weeks time tae the lovely Claire. I'm no’ sure quite what he’s done tae deserve her, but anyways, she’s said yes. So raise yer glasses tae Jamie Fraser… lucky bastard.”

“Jamie Fraser… lucky bastard.”  
*******************

Claire pulled her dressing gown tightly around her as she checked the spy hole on the front door. A single blue eye stared back at her.

“‘S me, Sassenach.” The blue eye blinked. “Would ye let me in… please?”

She opened the door to find Jamie standing on the doormat, keys in one hand, bag of chips in the other. He stumbled slightly as he came in.

“I tried tae get ma key in, but I think there’s something wrong wi’ the hole. Mebbe it’s broken.”

He pushed the chips into Claire’s hands as he leaned in and gave her a kiss. She winced slightly as the beer and curry fumes hit her.

“I bought ye a wee gift, Sassenach.” Jamie indicated the lukewarm bag of chips. 

“Thanks. Good night then, I take it?”

Jamie started to take his jacket off, struggling to get his arms out. Claire watched for a moment, amused, before depositing the chips on the hall table. She unfastened the buttons on the cuffs and pulled his jacket off. 

“I thought my jacket was broken then. Is everything broken ‘round here?” He pulled her into a bear hug. “Ye dinna have a gold bikini, do ye, Sassenach?”

“No,” she laughed. “Why?”

“Och, jes’ a thought.”

He relaxed his hug and brought one hand up to her hair, selecting a random curl. Her hair smelt of rosemary and mint, fresh and clean. Letting the curl drop, his hand followed a familiar path down her back towards its favourite destination. He squeezed her arse through her dressing gown. His other hand crept between their bodies, finding its way through the layers of smooth fabric. He cupped her breast, feeling the nipple harden against his palm. Claire gave a small contented sigh.

“Will ye come tae bed?” He whispered.

“Yes, but, please clean your teeth.”

Jamie headed for the stairs, smiling. “Aye, I will do. I’ve some ideas…”

He stumbled on the bottom stair but, unphased, carried on talking. “Sassenach, babe, I’m going to rock your world.”

Claire made the usual nighttime rounds - checking the locks, turning the television off, switching off the lights, before following Jamie to the bedroom.

“Ok, then Fraser, what ideas have you got for me—” 

She stopped suddenly and took in the picture in front of her. Jamie lay, fully clothed, diagonally across their bed still wearing one shoe. The other was, inexplicably, on his bedside table, next to his watch, a beer mat and several after dinner mints. He gave a small snore, adjusted his balls through his trousers and farted.

Claire sighed. She quickly undid his belt and trousers and slowly shimmied his trousers down his hips before pulling the legs. She unbuttoned his beer-stained shirt.

“Jamie, Jamie. Wake up. You need to get ready for bed.”

Jamie emitted a mumbled ‘aye’ and rolled onto his side.

“Jamie, wake up.” She tried again, adding a shake of his shoulder.

With Jamie most definitely asleep, Claire left the bedroom and returned with a blanket and bucket, which she positioned next to his side of the bed. By a process of pushing Jamie’s inert body and pulling the duvet from underneath him, she managed to create enough space in the bed for herself. Tucking the blanket around Jamie, she finally crept into bed.

_Perhaps Mary has the right idea, _she chuckled to herself, _maybe I should get me a ‘toy cupboard’._

Jamie snorted as if in agreement.

Claire moulded her body against Jamie’s back. “You raise a girl’s expectations, James Fraser and then you don’t deliver. But I forgive you.”

“And I can’t wait to be married to you,” she whispered. “I know on a practical level, nothing will change, but, for me, I know everything will change…” She lightly kissed his back. “... everything.”


	22. An Unsolicited Overture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve, @soinspiredbyyou for their support and to you for reading.
> 
> Hope you enjoy

_“Really, Mr. Collins,' cried Elizabeth with some warmth, 'you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as to convince you of its being one.” _

― Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejudice_

Claire opened up her phone and scrolled down the list, mentally ticking off the various entries. With most of the wedding paraphernalia already at Lallybroch, this was mainly their and William’s personal items for the coming weekend. And as soon as Jamie returned from collecting William, they could finally pack the car and be on their way.

All the cases and boxes were stacked, waiting by the front door. Just one more thing to add to the pile.

Claire slid the wardrobe door open in the spare bedroom. There it was, pristine in its garment bag. She inspected the surgical tape positioned across the head of the zip. Still intact, untampered with. It wasn't that she didn't trust Jamie not to take a peek, it was just, well, she wanted the absolute knowledge that the first time he would see the dress was as she was walking towards him on Sunday.

She closed her eyes for a moment - less than forty eight hours before she married Jamie… and she couldn’t wait. Everything was going to plan up at Lallybroch, according to Mrs. Crook, who had been an absolute godsend to Claire and Jamie. She had willingly undertaken the role of event planner, acting as their go between when they were unable—due to time, distance and other commitments—to deal with things face to face.

Mrs. Crook had just rung up to confirm that the marquee and portaloos were now in place, with the flooring, tables and chairs ready and waiting. Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Tomorrow would be a frantic day, she knew, but it was all coming together nicely. Nothing would go wrong now.

*************  
Jamie tapped the steering wheel impatiently. It had been a while since he had had to make this Friday evening journey to Geneva’s house to pick William up and city centre rush hour traffic had certainly not improved in that time. Why Geneva had decided not to put William into nursery today was unfathomable… or maybe not. Perhaps it was just a way to cause maximum disruption to himself and Claire on the eve (or, rather, eve’s eve) of their wedding. Hopefully, William would be ready to go and they could be on their way quickly… back to Claire and then up to Lallybroch to start their weekend.

Jamie grinned at the thought of their wedding weekend. Tomorrow would be hectic, he realised that, with all the last minute preparations and arrangements.After this evening, there would be no quiet time for him and Claire until—he smiled again—until their wedding night.

Eventually, Jamie pulled up outside Geneva’s house and hurried to the door. Unusually, Geneva answered the door promptly and ushered Jamie into the hall.

“Hello,’ Jamie greeted her politely. “Is William ready? I need tae be on the way. We’ve a fair drive this evening.”

He had decided not to remind Geneva about the wedding. There was no point in rubbing salt into the proverbial wound.

“Can you come in for a minute? There’s something I need to discuss.” She sounded nervous, worried.

“Is it about William? He’s alright, is he no’? Is that why he didna go tae nursery?” Jamie spoke rapidly.

“He’s fine. It’s not about him. Well…”

Jamie followed Geneva into the living room, his stomach suddenly in knots.

“Ye’re no’ planning on moving? I thought ye’d decided no tae that.”

She turned and rested a hand lightly on his forearm.

“Jamie, it’s not that. It’s…” she took a deep breath and continued. “It’s not too late, you know… for us. If you wanted us to be a real family—you, me and William. We could try. I know you have the wedding this weekend, but, if you really wanted you could stop it. Claire would get over it, I’m sure. We could make it work, you and I. I know you have a problem with my mother, but I could talk to her. She would understand.”

Jamie gently detached Geneva’s hand from his arm and shook his head. This was an unfamiliar side to her. Usually so full of self confidence and clear in her demands, this was different, almost pleading. She was not treating it as a game this time, eager not to lose, but with a sincere hope that he could… would… change his mind and choose her. But his choice wasn’t about William having parents who lived together, or about Louisa being less involved in their lives. His choice was simple and always would be. His choice was Claire, his only Sassenach.

“Geneva,” he spoke slowly and clearly. “This isna about William. We know that he has two parents who love him and live separately. I will always do ma best fer him, but that doesna mean we should try tae be together.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Jamie continued. “Nor is it about yer mother. Interfering or no’, I would have found a way tae deal with her… if I had wanted tae. It is about Claire. I have found the woman I want to spend ma life with, that I want tae make a commitment tae and nothing will change that. This is no’ healthy fer ye, Geneva, ye need tae move on. We were never a good match, ye and I. Ye must realise that. I love Claire and I always will.”

Silence filled the room. Jamie shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, keen to take his leave. His son came to his rescue as a cry came through the baby monitor, rousing Geneva into action.

“I’ll go and fetch William. He’s in his cot.” Geneva's air of vulnerability vanished as her usual mask of self confidence fell into place once more. 

Jamie waited by the front door as Geneva returned with William already in his car seat. He squealed and eagerly kicked his legs at the sight of his father. Jamie took the car seat and kissed his son’s cheek.

“Bye, Geneva. I’ll drop William off at nursery on Tuesday as agreed.”

“Bye then. See you.” She started to close the front door behind them, then paused. “Er, hope everything goes… er….”

Jamie turned. “Thank ye.”

************

“She said what?” Claire spoke louder than she had intended, rousing William from his nap in the back of the car. “Oh sorry, darling.”

She reached behind her seat and stroked William’s leg.

“Will she ever give up, I wonder? Can she not get the message?” Claire twisted the strap of her bag agitatedly. “What will it take?”

Jamie stroked her knee briefly before pulling over to the side of the road. He shifted in his seat, turning to face Claire and brought his hand up to her cheek. 

“Should I no’ have told ye? I wasna sure whether tae tell ye, but I jes’ decided I had tae. I dinna want tae be starting our marriage with a secret between us.”

“No, you did right. It’s just… just… it frustrates me so much. Does she really think you are going to change your mind? You’ve had plenty of opportunity before now.”

“Aye, but this felt, somehow more final. I ken this will be the last time. She needs tae move on wi’ someone else. She and I were never a match, Sassenach, and she kens that right enough.”

Jamie took Claire’s hand and nervously twisted the diamond solitaire on her finger. “Ye ken I didna do anything tae give her any encouragement. It was as much of a surprise tae me as tae ye, Sassenach.”

Now it was Claire’s turn to provide the reassurance to Jamie. She pressed her hand on his chest and felt his heart beating, faster at first then slowing down into its usual rhythm as his worries disappeared with her soothing touch.

“I know that, Jamie. I know you.”

The quiet of the moment was suddenly interrupted by a squeaking sound from the back seat. They both craned their heads around to see William enthusiastically squeezing his new plush hedgehog, babbling in delight as he repeatedly pressed the squeaker hidden inside the toy’s body.

Claire laughed. “Did you know when you bought it?”

A look of pride crept over Jamie’s face. “Truly, I didna. But look at him, He’s a clever lad tae be figuring that out sae quickly. Aye, so ye are, ma wee man.”

“We’ve still got another hour on the road. You might not be so keen on that toy by the time we get to Lallybroch.”

“And,” Claire added as Jamie started the car. “Please make sure he doesn’t have that toy on Sunday afternoon. Our wedding vows interspersed with William’s squeaky hedgehog is not what I want our guests to remember.”

******  
Lallybroch stood dark and quiet as everyone settled down for the night.

Jamie lay on his side next to Claire, her arse nestling into his thighs, his hand reaching around to cup her breast. He sighed contentedly, his breath lightly tickling her neck. The steady sound of William snoring came through the baby monitor on the bedside table.

He sighed again. “I’m going tae miss this tomorrow night, when ye’ll be here all on yer own and I’m having tae bunk in wi’ Murtagh. Are ye sure ye dinna want me here instead? Ye’ll be awfa lonely,.. jes’ one wee Sassenach in this great big bed.”

Claire wedged her bottom more firmly into Jamie. “ I am not breaking with tradition. You’ll have to manage for one night.”

“Alright, Sassenach.”

The darkness in the bedroom was absolute. A velvety blackness cocooning the two of them in their own private world. Claire lifted Jamie’s hand from her breast and brought it to her lips, kissing it softly before returning it to its original position.

“Jamie, can I ask you a question?”

“I presume ye mean two questions, seeing as how ye’ve already asked one.”

She dug her elbow quickly into his ribs in chastisement.

“You’ve had girlfriends before me…”

She felt Jamie tense slightly, unsure where this line of questioning was going.

“... and I know at least one of them before me wasn’t from Scotland. I’m not prying but… did you ever call them Sassenach?”

His body relaxed as he kissed her neck.

“Nah, only ye. Ye’re the only one I ever called Sassenach, or given any name tae. When I was a bairn, Mam had a pet name fer me. She called me Sawny… it’s from Alexander, ye ken. That was between her and me. It was special. Tae me, a pet name, a nickname, it’s, weel, it’s more than affectionate. It’s a sign of love.”

“But you called me that on our first date.”

“Aye, I did. Like I say, it’s a sign of love. And I kent that then. Then, now and forever, ma Sassenach.”


	23. A Hectic Enterprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, currently experiencing some writer's block but I'm getting there slowly.  
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve, @soinspiredbyyou for their support

_Phoebe: (her mobile phone rings) Oh, it's my wedding planner. She's driving me crazy! (she answers) Hello... Hey, ok, stop screaming! Ok? So, halibut. All right, so salmon, either way. I don't-I don't... it doesn't matter to me!_

_Friends  
_  
Claire was roused from sleep by a persistent squeaking close to her left ear. Opening one eye, she was greeted by a big grin from William, his hedgehog firmly clasped in his fist. An aroma of dirty nappy filled the air. 

“Morning, precious,” Claire said croakily.

William babbled in delight and pushed the hedgehog even closer to her ear.

“Not so close, lovie.” Claire sniffed. “Jamie, someone ‘round here needs a clean bottom…. and what time is it? I can’t be late. We have so much to do. I’m meant to be meeting Mrs. Crook… and the caterers… and the florist is coming. And we have the rehearsal this afternoon at the church, so Geillis and Dougal need to have arrived before then —“

“Dinna fash. It’s no’ even seven yet.” Jamie stopped rifling through a suitcase and turned around to face Claire. “I heard William stirring and jes’ thought I’d bring him in tae say hello before getting him cleaned up. I ken we’ve a lot tae do.”

William suddenly launched himself forward from his sitting position onto Claire’s chest. Laughing, Claire brought her arms around to cuddle the baby. Jamie stood still for a moment, just watching as she rolled William onto his back and began tickling him. William erupted into fits of helpless chuckles. Jamie put down the nappy cream and moved back to bed. What difference would five minutes make?

Jamie lay down on top of the covers and joined in, gently biting William’s toes through the fleecy sleepsuit. His eyes met Claire’s as a wave of pure joy washed over him.

“I canna wait fer tomorrow,” he whispered.

“Me neither.”

“Dadadada,” William babbled as he rolled back towards Claire and grabbed a handful of her curls.

“Hear that?” Jamie spoke proudly. “He said dada, he called me dada.”

“I think you’ll find he actually called me dada. But we can be working on it… together.”

*******

By the time Claire had showered and dressed, Mrs Crook had arrived and was busy feeding William his porridge. The baby smacked his lips greedily between mouthfuls, trying to grab the spoon from Mrs. Crook’s hand.

“He certainly likes his food,” Mrs.Crook said as Claire planted a kiss on her cheek. “Jes’ like his da.”

Claire poured herself a cup of tea and joined them at the table. “Where is his father?”

“Och, we dinna ken, do we, ma wee puddin’?” 

Spooning the dregs of the porridge into William’s mouth, Mrs. Crook then handed him the spoon.

“Jamie went out a few minutes ago wi’ Brian. They didna say where.”

Having discovered the spoon contained no more food, William pushed his bottom lip out in a sulk. His mood was lightened somewhat as he discovered the tympanic qualities of the spoon, enthusiastically banging it on the tray of the high chair.

“You are a noisy little tyke, aren’t you?”

“Dadadada”

“Oh William, you have to remember. Say that when your da is actually here,”

Claire lifted William out of the high chair, still tightly clutching his spoon.

“Did ye take a wee keek at the marquee when ye arrived?”

“No, it was dark by the time we got here. Let me just get a jacket on William and then why don’t we both go and have a look?”

**********************

Claire hitched William more securely on her hip and looked around the marquee… the cavernous marquee… the cavernous, unfinished marquee. Stacks of chairs were stored in one corner, tables in another. Several large hampers had been dumped on top of a makeshift platform. The structural steel poles stood grey and unadorned. Claire turned to Mrs. Crook, dismay clearly etched on her face.

“It’s nowhere near ready, Mrs. C, is it?”

“Ah, dinna fash, Claire. They’re on the way now. Ye’ll see, by this evening, ye willna be able tae recognise the place. Trust me, I’ve seen this every year wi’ the Hallowe’en party. It’ll be grand. I’ll be away and wait fer them in the yard.”

After Mrs. Crook had left, Claire wandered around trying, and failing, to imagine the finished decor. She had faith in the event planners, up to a point, but this seemed too much even for them.

“Yoohoo.” 

Geillis appeared from behind a stack of chairs and looked around. “I like what ye’ve done with the place. Kind of workhouse chic meets brutal minimalism.”

She kissed Claire’s cheek and ruffled William’s hair. 

“Geillis! We weren’t expecting you until later. How early did you get up? And where’s Dougal?”

“Och, he’s faffing about with the car, trying to park it so it doesna get scratched by any of yer comings and goings. And, for yer information, we drove up yesterday,” she unstacked a chair, placed it in the middle of the floor and sat down.

“Weel, I was sae inspired by yer Jenny’s story the other week. Ye ken, the one about the highland warrior and the serving wench. We decided tae drive up yesterday, find a wee glen and try it fer ourselves.”

“It worked a treat,” Geillis winked. “And—“

“Hello, ye in here?”

To Claire’s relief, Geillis immediately halted her, no doubt overly detailed, story as Dougal sauntered into the marquee. Whilst not quite as tall or as broad as Jamie, and at least twenty years older, Claire recognised there was a certain tough quality about him. He would definitely have made a good warrior, fighting the redcoats.

“Morning, Claire,” Dougal pecked her cheek. “And who do we have here?”

He scooped William out of Claire’s arms. She glanced across at Geillis, who gave a small uncertain smile.

William looked momentarily surprised by this stranger but relaxed against his shoulder.

“Da—“ he began.

Claire shot him a warning look. “What have I said, William? Save that for your da.”

William put his thumb in his mouth and proceeded to tap the spoon he was still holding against the side of Dougal’s head.

“William, no! Sorry, Dougal.” 

To the baby’s disgust, Claire prised the spoon from his tightly clenched fist. He let out a wail of dissatisfaction, only quietening as he heard his father’s voice coming into the marquee.

“Ah, Geillis, Dougal. Good tae see ye. Fancy a coffee? Ma sister and her family have jes’ arrived too.”

Jamie took the fidgeting baby from Dougal as they walked back to the house.

“Are you not worried about the state of the marquee?” Claire whispered to Jamie.

“Och, no. It’ll be fine. I saw the vans pulling up as I came in. Trust me, Sassenach. Ye’ll see.”

**************

The old stone church had been the focus of Fraser family worship for many generations, as various plaques and stone engravings bore testament to, and was an intrinsic part of Jamie’s memories. It was here that he had been christened. Although that was obviously not one of his memories, he still cherished the photograph taken by the font of himself in his father’s arms while his mother wrangled an unhappy toddler Jenny. It was here that Jenny married Ian, and her children were christened, too. And in less happy times, it was here that his mother had been lain to rest.

So, it had always been important for him to marry here. When Claire had willingly suggested Lallybroch as their wedding venue, he had been both thrilled and touched by her enthusiasm for his family home and traditions. He tried not to think about the possible battle looming over any suggestion of William being christened here.

The priest greeted them in the doorway and escorted them down the aisle towards the altar, explaining the order of service and their roles tomorrow. A noise in the porch indicated the arrival of Ian, Geillis, Jenny and Wee Jamie.

“Da and Murtagh are looking after Maggie and William.” Jenny explained.

“Aye, and Dougal offered to help them.” Geillis added with an exaggerated eye roll.

Wee Jamie pulled on his mother’s hand and whispered loudly. “Where are all the people, ye ken? The people what watch us. There’s no-one sitting on the benches.”

Jenny pursed her lips in an effort not to laugh. “This isna the wedding, Jamie. It’s a rehearsal, a practice fer tomorrow, so ye all ken what tae do.”

Wee Jamie breathed a loud sigh of relief. “That’s good ‘cos I havena got the rings, nor ma kilt.”

Jamie felt the butterflies building in his stomach as the priest positioned himself and Ian at the front and then instructed Claire, Geillis and his nephew on walking formally down the aisle. Jenny hovered, anxious for Wee Jamie, but she had no need for worry. Her son strode down the aisle in front of Claire, his tongue peeking out from between his lips in concentration as he held his arms in front of his body, pretending to hold a cushion.

Jamie watched as Claire approached with measured paces, the only sounds being the footsteps on the hard floor tiles. He found himself holding his breath as she drew closer, until…

“Oh, poo,” Wee Jamie said in a loud voice, the word echoing around the stone walls. “I forget which way tae go now.”

“Sorry, Father.” Jenny quickly apologised. “Jamie, apologise to Father Michael for saying that word.”

“Sorry, Father,” Wee Jamie repeated. “But we say it all the time at home, Da sings a song about poo tae Maggie. He says it’s no’ a bad word.”

Jenny glared at her son as Jamie and Ian dissolved into fits of laughter. “Aye, it’s no’ swearing but we dinna say it in the kirk, OK?”

“Weel, I think we’re about done now fer today. We all ken what we’ve tae do, and,” the priest looked hard at Wee Jamie. “And what we’ve no’ tae do tomorrow.”

**************

The sun was beginning to set as they made their way back to Lallybroch. Mrs. Crook had already left for the day, with plans for a ‘shampoo and set’ at the local hairdressers before a good night’s sleep.

Despite an invitation for Geillis and Dougal to join them for a family dinner, Geillis graciously declined. Claire wasn’t sure if Geillis was worried about the proximity of so many babies and small children giving Dougal more paternal thoughts, or if Geillis had some thoughts of her own of a less pure nature to share with Dougal. With a promise of an early return to Lallybroch, Claire bade farewell to the couple.

Jamie had momentarily disappeared. Claire supposed he was keen to reclaim his son from Brian and Murtagh. She turned and walked across the gravel forecourt to the kitchen door. A whistle made her turn around. Jamie stood on the makeshift path leading to the marquee.

“Fancy a quick keek at it now?” He asked.

“Or maybe I should wait ‘til they’ve finished in the morning. I don’t want to be thinking about it’s unfinished state tonight.”

“Oh, come on. A quick look.”

He held out his hand and led her into the marquee.

Jamie had obviously crept in and switched on a couple of lights on the small platform stage. Claire looked around in amazement. Though dimly lit, the transformation from that morning was clear. In front of the stage, a dance floor had been laid. The circular tables were in place, each adorned with a pristine white tablecloth and gauzy russet runner. A posy vase in the centre of each table stood ready for the simple sprigs of autumn leaves and berries to be added. The chairs reflected the colour scheme with white covers and russet bows.

One corner of the marquee was occupied by a bar, not yet stocked. Empty pedestals were scattered around, waiting for the florist’s artistry the following morning. The steel poles were now elegantly covered in white and russet fabric entwined with fairy lights.

“Still worried about this place?” Jamie asked.

Claire shook her head. “No, it’s going to look magical.”

“I kent it would, jes’ needs the finishing touches in the morning.”

They stood quietly for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Claire stood on tip toes and kissed Jamie’s cheek, his bristles rough against her lips.

“What was that fer?”

“Oh, this… you… William… your family… everything.”

“Nae regrets? Even after all that’s happened this year?”

“Not a single one.”

Jamie stooped and returned the kiss.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. I love ye.”

Back outside, Claire turned towards the house. Jamie gently pulled her in the opposite direction.

“Oh, do you not want to get back to William?” Claire enquired.

“Och, William will be fine fer a wee while longer. He’ll be having a grand time wi’ Da and Murtagh. No, seeing as how ye are banishing me from yer bed tonight and I canna see ye ‘til the kirk, I jes’ wanted a few minutes alone wi’ ye.”

Jamie stopped in a corner of the garden. “Remember this place, Sassenach ? Nearly this time last year?”

“The Hallowe’en party. Of course, We escaped up here to watch the fireworks. You were Harry Potter.”

“Aye and ye were the sexiest witch I’d ever seen…that dress and those stockings... wi’ yer skin all pale and glowing in the moonlight. When I laid ye down on the blanket and ye opened herself tae me and I could hear yer moans and sighs, weel, I kent then that ye were mine fer always… and I was yers.”

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to hers. She kissed him gently before parting his lips with her tongue, lightly caressing his mouth. Jamie responded eagerly, tongues entwining, bodies pressed tightly together. He could feel Claire’s moans catch in her throat. He traced a path of kisses from her mouth to that sweet spot behind her ear…

“Jamie… Claire… are ye there? Da says d’ye fancy a wee nip afore dinner? And Murtagh says he canna face another dirty nappy, sae ye’re going tae have tae see tae yer son… right now.” Jenny called from the bottom of the path.

Jamie and Claire broke apart.

“We’d better go in then.” 

“Christ, woman, what have ye done tae me?” Jamie panted. “Ye’ve got me all riled up… let me wait a moment until I’m… weel, er, more composed.”

Claire laughed. “Sorry. But can you believe that was only a year ago? So much has happened, so many changes… William, living together, now marriage.”

“But there’s one thing that hasna changed, Sassenach. And that’s how much I love ye. So, Mrs Soon-tae-be-Fraser, shall we join the family?”

“Yes, Jamie, I’d love to. Let’s join our family."


	24. An Enduring Commitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyone for a wedding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly powering through the block for this penultimate chapter.  
Thanks to you for sticking with this story - all your kudos and comments are really appreciated.
> 
> Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve, @soinspiredbyyou for all their support

_Ever mine, ever thine, ever ours._

Letter from Beethoven to his Immortal Beloved. (Also used in _Sex and the City_)

Claire, in that blissful state between sleeping and wakefulness, rolled over and stretched out, her hand automatically reaching for the hard body next to her. The unaccustomed coolness of the empty sheets quickly pulled her fully awake. She lay still for a moment, content to savour the anticipation of the day ahead, triggering a small flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

Propping her back against the pillows, she could hear a flurry of activity outside the bedroom. A familiar low voice spoke, too softly for her to make out the words. The reply, however, came through loud and clear, in scolding tones.

“Unca Jamie, I said no! Mam has told me I’ve tae look after Auntie Claire taeday. Mam says ye canna see her, no’ even a wee keek. Mam says ye’re like a rat up a drainpipe given half a chance. So ye need tae go away… right now.”

There was a small knock on the door and Wee Jamie’s head peeped around the door. 

“Are ye awake, Care Bear?” He ran in and perched on the end of the bed before she had a chance to answer.

“I had tae tell Unca Jamie tae go away jes’ now.”

Claire smiled. “I heard.”

“Weel, he canna be seein’ ye ‘til the kirk, Mam says ‘tis bad luck. Why?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe people are scared the groom will see the bride and suddenly change his mind?”

Wee Jamie scooted up the bed and snuggled into Claire. “Unca Jamie wouldna change his mind, no’ about ye, Auntie.”

“Aw, thank you. So you protect me from your uncle today, then.”

“Aye, I will,” he gave a big sigh. “I’ve an awfa lot of jobs tae do taeday, ye ken. And mam told me tae ask ye what ye want fer breakfast. Mam thought a couple o’ boiled eggs wi’ soldiers might do ye.”

“But,” he added conspiratorially. “Ye could always have toast wi’ chocolate spread… I can help ye eat it.”

“Boiled eggs sound great.”

Wee Jamie pulled a face in disgust as he climbed from the bed. “I’ll go tell Mam. She says tae stay here fer breakfast, ‘cos ye ken what Unca Jamie’s like… a rat—“

“I know,” Claire laughed. “Thank you, Jamie. You go and tell your mum what a big help you are to me. And tell Uncle Jamie to behave himself… or else.”

***********  
Feeling guilty at the prospect of being served breakfast in bed, Claire quickly dressed in leggings and an old university sweatshirt of Jamie’s. She opened the large mahogany wardrobe and gazed at her wedding dress hanging there, now free of its protective covering. The kaleidoscope of butterflies resumed their fluttering in her stomach. Six hours to go…

“Claire, can I come in?” 

Rushing to the door, Claire let Jenny in. She placed a plate with two boiled eggs, and an army of toast soldiers on the small side table together with a large mug of coffee.

Claire smiled appreciatively. “Thanks so much. I’m not sure how much I can eat though. My stomach is flip flopping all over the place.”

“Ye’d best try and eat something. It’ll be a long time ‘till we have the dinner and we canna be having ye passing out at the altar.”

Jenny moved over to the open wardrobe. “So this is it?” She asked, recalling much cherished memories of another wedding gown at Lallybroch nine years before.

Bringing her thoughts back to the present bride, she continued with genuine emotion in her voice. “Oh, it’s jes’ lovely. Ye’ll look beautiful in it.”

She sat on the bed as Claire half heartedly dipped a soldier into one of the eggs. “How are ye feeling? Ma brother canna stop still, he’s fidgeting about the place and keeps trying tae see ye, of course. I’ve ordered him tae take William fer a nice long walk. They both need tae burn off some energy and it’s a grand day outside.”

“Like I said, my stomach is in knots, but in a good way… does that make sense? I just want it to be three o’clock, yet, on the other hand I don’t want the day to go too quickly.”

“Aye, I ken what ye mean. I was jes’ the same maself. I wanted tae be able tae remember every minute. But Da, now, he was sae nervous, he couldna stop shaking. He fair sprinted down the aisle. I had tae hold him back and try tae enjoy the moment.”

Jenny stood up. “Ah, weel, I’ll go and make sure Jamie goes fer a walk. Then ye can come down fer a bit, if ye’d like. I dinna want ye to feel ye’re in isolation up here.”

Claire took a swig of coffee. “Thanks, Jenny.”

“Nae bother.”

“Not just for this… or today… but for everything.”

"I always wanted a sister, as well as my clot-heid of a brother. It’s taken Jamie some time, but I now really feel like I’ve got one. We're family."

Jenny fumbled in the pocket of her skirt and pulled out an old leather box. “Claire, I ken Jamie has given ye our mam’s pearls, but I have the matching earrings here. If ye like, ye could wear them today… fer the ‘something borrowed’.” 

She opened the box and passed them to Claire. “I mean, ye dinna have tae.” She quickly added. “I willna mind if ye already have others tae wear.”

Claire wiped her hands on her leggings before taking the box. “Jenny, they’re lovely. Of course I’ll wear them. I don’t know what to say… thank you so much.

“I’d best away now. I’ll let ye know when the coast is clear.”

Jenny bent down and gave Claire a big hug. Claire didn’t speak, but hugged Jenny even tighter before letting go. She wiped her eyes as Jenny left the room.

As soon as Jenny closed the door, Claire could hear footsteps rushing away along the landing.

“James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, I ken what ye’re up tae, creeping ‘round here.” Jenny called out sternly.

“I was only going tae see if Claire wanted tae say hello tae William. She hasna seen the bairn this morning.” Jamie sounded very sheepish.

“G’on fer yer walk and dinna be mithering Claire. It’ll all be worth it this afternoon, when ye see her coming down the aisle.”

Claire felt a shiver of excitement up and down her spine at those words. She glanced at the clock. Only five and a half hours to go…

********  
Wee Jamie loudly announced outside her bedroom door when it was safe for Claire to venture downstairs. He gallantly accompanied her into the kitchen and insisted on standing guard at the back door, despite numerous protestations that it wasn’t really necessary.

Claire poured a coffee and settled herself at the kitchen table to await the arrival of Geillis. The kitchen, the heart of Fraser-Murray family life, was unusually quiet, the only sound being Wee Jamie singing a song to himself, featuring lyrics clearly about a variety of toilet habits.

Growing up, this quietness had been the norm but now, ever since meeting Jamie, she relished the noisy mealtimes around this table, with several generations coming together to share food and whisky (adults only), conversation and laughter…and love.

The scrape of a chair against the stone tiled floor roused Claire from her thoughts. A warm hand reached across to lightly rest on her upturned palm.

“Ye were miles away there, lass. Ye’re no’ having second thoughts about our Jamie?” Brian asked, a broad smile on his face.

Claire returned the smile. “No, I was just thinking about mealtimes here, around this table. So different to my life growing up.”

“Different, aye. But fer the better, I hope?”

“Yes, of course. It’s so nice to feel part of something, you know?”

“Aye, I do. I can tell ye, the first time Jamie brought ye tae Lallybroch and we sat around here, I looked at ye and I kent ye belonged. No’ jes’ wi’ Jamie, but here wi’ all of us. He may have been a fool about some things, but no’ about ye.”

“I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

Brian released her hand for a moment before placing a small coin in her palm.

“Silver sixpence fer yer shoe… if ye’d like. Ye dinna have tae use it.”

“Of course, I’d like to.” She studied the coin for a moment. “You know Jenny has lent me Ellen’s pearl earrings… for the something borrowed.”

“Aye, she said she would. Ye ken, ma Ellen woulda loved ye. And ye remind me of her in many ways. No’ jes’ in looks. Her hair was red like our Jamie’s, and her eyes werena amber, but they were as warm and sparkling as yers are now. And she always had a calm, practical nature—like yers.” Brian’s voice began to crack. “And love, always so much love.”

“Aye,” he repeated. “She woulda loved ye. We went tae tell her yesterday, Jamie and I, we paid a visit tae the kirk yard. Left her some flowers. She always loved this time of year, ‘season of mists and mellow fruitfulness’ as the poet says, and tae ken her wee Sawny is getting married now, here…weel—“

A panicked yell came from the back door. “Auntie, there’s a car here, but I dinna think it’s Unca Jamie.”

“Oh, ‘tis alright,” he continued with a loud relieved sigh, ‘‘Tis only yer friend, G.”

“I think that’s my cue for us to go and start getting ready.” She moved around to Brian and gave him a hug. “I’ll see you in church, then.”

***********  
Jamie shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden pew. Despite the chill of the late October day, he was suddenly very hot. William, held tightly in his arms, seemed to sense his father’s nervousness and pouted before starting to grizzle, quietly at first, then building up to a loud wail.

Isobel, in her wedding role as baby minder for the ceremony, was positioned in the pew behind Jamie and Ian. “Hush,” she crooned softly as she tickled William under the chin.

Distracted from his woes, William grinned at his aunt and then amused himself by grabbing his father’s curls with both hands and babbling.

“Dadadada.”

Jamie’s heart filled with pride as he gazed at his son, clad in a little white shirt, Fraser tartan trews and matching waistcoat.

Ian nudged Jamie gently. “There’s nae doubt who his Da is. How ye doing?”

Jamie licked his lips and tried to swallow. “Fine,” he croaked. “A wee bit nervous but… shouldn’t she be here by now?”

“It’s a bride's prerogative tae be late. It’s only ten minutes. Yer sister kept me waiting for nigh on twenty, remember?”

Jamie smiled at the memory of how worried Ian had been, convinced that Jenny had changed her mind and was, at that moment, somewhere on the road to Glasgow. He had no doubts about Claire, he knew that she was on her way, but the waiting was excruciating.

Suddenly the atmosphere in the church changed. The organ music which had been playing quietly in the background ceased. The priest strolled down the side aisle and halted in front of Jamie and Ian. 

“They’re here,” the priest whispered and indicated for the congregation to rise.

As the organ sounded with the opening bars of Händel’s ‘Largo’, Jamie stood and passed William to Isobel, wiping his hands, now damp with sweat, on his kilt. He tried to keep his eyes fixed on the altar, unsure if he was allowed to turn around. Ian had no such concern and craned around to watch before, smiling broadly, he clapped Jamie on the back. 

Unable to contain himself any longer, Jamie swivelled around to watch the procession down the aisle. Wee Jamie led the way, carrying a small velvet cushion with a piece of Fraser tartan laid on top. Jamie knew that the two white gold wedding rings were nestled inside that fabric. His nephew’s face was a mask of concentration, only breaking into a smile when he spied first his mother, clutching Maggie to stop her toppling off the pew, and then his father and uncle.

Geillis brought up the rear, her bronze satin gown complimenting her strawberry blond hair, caught up at one side by an ornate pearl comb. The simplicity of the dress, with its cowl neckline, ensured that the congregation’s main focus was where it should be… with Claire.

Jamie caught his breath as he looked at Claire. The late autumn sunlight streaming through the church windows caught the highlights of auburn and gold in her hair, falling in loose curls onto her shoulders, the only adornment a simple pearl headband matching her necklace and earrings. In her hands she carried a bouquet of creamy peony roses and pale orange tinged ranunculus with autumn berries, seed pods and leaves, tied together with a bronze ribbon. 

He felt tears prick his eyes as he recognised how Claire had lovingly included his mother in their wedding, wearing Ellen’s necklace and earrings and carrying peony roses, his mother’s favourite.

As she drew closer, he could see the detail on her dress, enhancing the creamy whiteness of her shoulders and neck. She was never less than beautiful to him, but here, now, he knew she was all he ever needed… companion, confidante, wife, lover. She stopped alongside him and flashed him a warm, yet nervous, smile. His heart was so full, it felt like it would burst.

As Jamie and Claire said the familiar words of the traditional wedding service, repeated by millions of couples over hundreds of years, each vow, each promise felt, to them, fresh and unique, a covenant for the two of them alone. In front of their family and friends, they made their commitment to each other, their love clear in every word they spoke.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest intoned the final authoritative words.

“Dadadada,” yelled William at the top of his voice, clapping his hands.

The air of solemnity immediately lifted throughout the guests. With applause, cheers and much laughter, Mr. and Mrs. Fraser shared their first kiss as husband and wife.


	25. A Happily Ever After?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, eventually, here it is the final chapter of this story. Thank you all for sticking with it and for reading, commenting and kudos. It really means a lot to me.
> 
> Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou, @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve for all their support with this.
> 
> Warning, it's their wedding night so expect some nsfw

_“And what would humans be without love?"  
RARE, said Death._

― Terry Pratchett, _Sourcery_

It was that time of the day, that brief lull in the wedding proceedings. The wedding breakfast had been consumed (creamy wild mushroom soup, the tastiest Scottish salmon fillet, and a classic cranachan to follow), speeches had been made (the usual mix of teasing ribaldry and genuine heartfelt sentiments), toasts had been given. The wine had been flowing freely, just enough to relax everyone, but with no-one yet drunk. The marquee was full of chatter as different social groups began to mingle and the band unpacked their equipment ready for the evening festivities.

Claire sat back in her chair and sipped her gin and tonic (strictly clear liquids only today to prevent stains on her dress). She gazed around, watching the comings and goings, the interactions of her and Jamie’s friends and family. One one side of the room, Geillis was holding court at a table, her hands gesticulating wildly, relating some hysterical anecdote judging by her audience’s reaction.

At another table, Mrs. Crook was feeding William stewed apple. After a bit of an unsettled start to the reception, William had quickly grown accustomed to the numerous unfamiliar faces and now seemed to be wallowing in all the attention, clapping his hands joyfully at every new effort to entertain him, even, most unusually, managing to distract him from his food.

In the corner across the room, Murtagh was giving Wee Jamie a piggyback whilst being chased by Brian with Maggie in his arms. And straight ahead was the unmistakable broad back and shoulders of Jamie... her husband. He was in conversation with John, but, somehow sensing her eyes upon him, he turned around. Their eyes met, each full of promise. A promise not just for tonight but for their future life together. Claire felt a tingle up her spine. Even across a room full of people, their connection was physical, alive, electric.

His gaze intensified, his eyes darkening as Claire felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny. Then, clearly mindful of the effect he was having on her, Jamie flashed a bright, knowing grin and blew her a kiss before turning back to his conversation with John.

Claire briefly closed her eyes, breathing deeply. The scrape of a chair next to her forced her eyes open. Isobel perched next to her, greeting her with a broad smile.

“It’s been a wonderful day so far.”

Claire returned the smile. “Yes, it’s been just perfect. And thank you for looking after William during the ceremony.”

“My pleasure. I wasn’t actually sure he was going to behave, he was none too keen on leaving his dad’s side at first. But how cute is his little tartan outfit?” 

“I know. Jamie had it made specially. Such a thoughtful thing to do.”

“I’m sure that’s not the only thoughtful thing he’s done for today. I bet he has a —“

The ringtone from Isobel’s phone interrupted the conversation. She glanced at the screen before declining the call. Without a word necessary, it was clear to Claire who the caller had been.

“Was that —?”

Isobel nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologise.”

“She keeps wanting updates. It’s like she’s torturing herself. I’ve sent her a picture of William and one message saying the ceremony is over. I’m hoping this all gives her enough closure to move on. Anyway, enjoy the rest of the day, Claire, you both deserve it. And don’t worry about William when Jamie—“

“Ahem.”

Neither of them had noticed Jamie creeping up behind them. Both jumped slightly at his staged cough. He kissed Isobel gently on the cheek before holding his hand out to Claire.

“Isobel, mind if I steal ma bride away? I think the band are about ready fer the first dance.”

Isobel smiled and shook her head as Claire took her husband’s hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor.

The lights dimmed as the band struck up the opening chords of ‘Fly me to The Moon’. Jamie and Claire made their way to the centre of the floor to enthusiastic applause from all their guests. Jamie grinned, made a bow and, with a dramatic flourish, pulled Claire into him.

With her head on his chest, he rested his cheek against her curls and closed his eyes, savouring the sensations around him; the softness of her hand against his palm, the scent of her delicate perfume, the lyrics of their favourite song, the gentle sway of his wife’s body in time to the music.

“You are all I long for, all I worship and adore,” Jamie whispered softly. “In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.”

Claire raised her head and smiled. “Love you too.”

As the song drew to a close, Jamie led Claire over to an empty table.

“I’ve a wee bit of a surprise, tonight, Sassenach. We willna be staying here this evening. A friend of Da’s owns the Loch Ness County House hotel and we’ve a suite there this evening. We’ll be back here tomorrow after breakfast, in time tae head back tae Glasgow.”

“But, what about —“ Claire began.

“Dinna fash,Sassenach. Everything’s sorted. Isobel is staying here tonight to take care of William and Geillis has packed yer overnight bag. It’s ready in the hall fer ye. And Da has taken care of transport. He’s called in a favour and we will be travelling there in style — a friend’s Aston Martin no less. What do ye think? I wanted our first night tae be special, no’ jes’ in ma bedroom at Lallybroch next tae ma airfix models and old rugby kit. Ye dinna mind, do ye?”

Claire wrapped her arms around Jamie’s neck and kissed him gently on his nose. 

“Not at all. Our first night would be special wherever we are, but that sounds just about perfect.”

“Well then, Mrs Fraser, let’s go and enjoy the rest of our reception, before our own private celebration.”

******************

Claire gazed appreciatively around the hotel room as Jamie carried their overnight bags and placed them on a large blanket box at the foot of the enormous four poster bed. The room was definitely luxurious, in a suitably understated way. No rose petals on the bed, thankfully, or towels moulded into swans, but a platter of handmade chocolates and a bottle of champagne on ice next to two lead crystal champagne flutes.

She sighed happily and sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing gently on the mattress.

“Such a comfortable bed. I’ll have a fantastic night’s sleep in this.”

Jamie eyed her indignantly. “I dinna plan on sleeping, Sassenach.”

He moved closer, standing in front of her and took her hands in his. “When I first saw ye, in the kirk, ye took ma breath away. I couldna believe how beautiful ye looked in that dress… all day long, every time I saw ye. And now, all I want tae do is see ye out of it. I want ye naked next tae me.”

Claire eased herself off the bed and patted Jamie’s chest. “And there’s nothing I want more. Give me a moment.”

She leant past him and opened her bag. A cascade of tissue paper and a note lay on top. She read, in bold letters _‘TAKE THIS INTO THE BATHROOM, NOW … MRS FRASER.”_

Ignoring Jamie’s quizzical stare, she gathered up the gift and paused briefly.

“Can you unhook me please?”

Jamie came up behind her and fumbled with the delicate hook and eye at the top of the zip. He eventually succeeded in unfastening it and then slowly drew the zip down Claire’s spine to her waist. His hands snaked their way underneath the fabric, fingertips lightly caressing her skin, trailing a path to her abdomen. She closed her eyes and gave a slight moan before pulling away.

“Pour the champagne, then, Jamie.I won’t be long.”

“Ye wee tease,” Jamie called after her. “D’ye ken what ye’re doing tae me?”

The bathroom, Claire noted, was as luxurious as the bedroom with a large whirlpool bath and a shower made for two (even those with Viking proportions). She put those thoughts aside as she ripped into the parcel.

Inside was another note from Geillis:

_‘I ken the underwear you’re wearing now is pretty enough, but, as I told you before, you need something special for tonight. So have a wonderful night.  
Your husband can thank me later.  
Love you, G’_

Inside was a short kimono. Claire held it up, admiring the bronze shimmering hue of the (very) sheer fabric. Nestled in the tissue paper beneath it was a matching bra and thong. She quickly shimmied out of her dress and pretty but practical white strapless bra and seamless panties and donned the new attire.

Staring at her reflection in the full length mirror, she twirled quickly around, watching the fabric shimmer under the lights. She had never worn anything quite like this before. The plunge, underwired bra was completely sheer with pale peach scalloped embroidery trims and tiny satin bows. Her nipples, already erect with anticipation, were clearly visible through the flimsy fabric. The thong, in the same sheer fabric, left her bottom exposed, with the short kimono barely covering her rear. She gave a final quick twirl to her reflection before opening the door into the bedroom.

Jamie lay on the bed in his white shirt and kilt. He quickly sat up as Claire sashayed to his side.

He swallowed hard. “My god, that… that… incredible.”

Claire smiled coyly. “You like it, then?”

“Are ye kidding? Ye look amazing… sexy…” He reached out and ran a fingertip gently around one nipple, then the other. “I feel a bit overdressed.”

He made to stand up but Claire placed her hands on his chest, forcing him to lie down. She climbed on to the bed and straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips. Leaning forward, her fingers fumbled for the buttons on his shirt, a small sound of satisfaction escaping her lips with each successful unbuttoning. Finally, she pulled the shirt open. Raking her fingernails down his chest, through the ruddy hairs, she watched, fascinated, as his nipples puckered and skin pebbled at the sensation.

Jamie groaned and raised his head, his mouth demanding access to her breasts. Instantly, she complied, moving up his body. He greedily drew a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the hard bud, relishing the shivers running through Claire’s body. 

Claire gave a whimper of dissatisfaction as he pulled away, the air cold against the now sodden fabric of her bra.

“My bra’s all wet now,” she pouted, looking down at her chest.

“Hmm, now tell me, Sassenach, is that the only place ye’re wet?” One hand traced a path from her breast down her abdomen, resting lightly on the small triangle of fabric. “I think I need tae see.”

His hands moved to grip her bottom firmly, urging her further up his body. Claire hesitated for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

Jamie grinned up at her. “Oh aye, Mrs Fraser.”

With a bit of careful manoeuvring, Claire shuffled up the bed until her knees rested on the pillow, either side of his head. She leant forward slightly, resting her forearms on the ornate headboard. Jamie’s breath was warm against her thighs. His hands caressed her bottom, drawing intricate, random patterns over her skin.

The tiny sliver of fabric was no barrier as Jamie’s mouth began its exploration. Instinctively, Claire shuddered at the exquisite sensation and closed her eyes. Her breath grew ragged as his tongue stroked along her wetness before flicking the small nub. A bolt of pleasure coursed through her body, her muscles contracting as his lips began to suck, his tongue continuing its rhythmic assault on her core.

She slumped heavily against the headboard, now incapable of supporting herself, her body focusing solely on Jamie and the urgent climb towards release. 

“Sassenach, open yer eyes. Look at me…” The low rumble of his voice created entirely new sensations on her sensitive flesh. “I want ye tae watch.” 

She forced her eyes open and looked down to see his piercing blue eyes, watching her face intently. She watched transfixed as his tongue resumed its sensuous movements, swirling around her warm moistness. His face buried between her thighs was the most erotic sight she had ever seen. 

Sensing her climax was near, Jamie increased the intensity. Claire moaned, throwing her head back.

“No, watch!” There was a sense of urgency in his muffled voice as, from behind, his fingers joined his lips and tongue in the pleasuring of her very core.

Claire felt her orgasm spread from deep in her belly, possessing every inch of her body. With a guttural cry of release, she came hard and fast. 

Suddenly boneless, she fell to the side, one leg lying across Jamie’s chest. Still panting, she reached across and stroked her husband's cheek, her moisture glistening on his lips.

“Oh my god, thank you,” she whispered.

He turned to face her and drew her close to him.

“I love seeing ye like that, the uncontrollable, wild ecstasy on yer face. I canna tell ye what it does tae me.”

Claire’s hand moved from his cheek, down his chest to rest against his groin. His excitement was clear through the fabric of his kilt. 

“You don’t need to tell me what it does to you... it’s pretty obvious.” She slowly stroked his erection.

Jamie grinned as he started to get up from the bed. “Let me take ma kilt off then.”

Claire shook her head. “No, don’t take it off. I want you to leave it on… please.”

“Well, then, just as well I’m a true Scot isn’t it? But,” he ran his fingers along the edge of her thong. “I think we need tae get rid of this wee thing afore we start on round two.”

“And, Sassenach, d’ye think we could mebbe try that again wi’ the camera?” He added hopefully.

Claire flung her arms around Jamie. “Oh, Jamie! How much do I love you? 

**************  
Jamie stood on the decking and watched the waves breaking on the clean, white sand. The location of this, their honeymoon hideaway, was perfect, the sunny weather was perfect, the promise of five nights, just the two of them, was perfect.

“Sassenach,” Jamie called in through the open patio doors. “What are ye up tae? Yer coffee’s here and it’s getting cold… as is yer husband.”

Claire wandered onto the deck and wound her arms around Jamie’s waist. “Jamie, I’m sorry. I know we’ve done the shopping already, but we need to head into the village, to the pharmacist.”

“Are ye ok? I’ve some paracetamol in ma bag.”

“I’m fine. I’ve done a stupid thing though. I can’t believe I’ve done it… and on our honeymoon.” Claire buried her head against Jamie’s back.

Jamie turned and wrapped his arms around his wife. “It canna be so bad. What is it?”

“I’ve left my pills at home. We’ll have to go and get some condoms.”

Jamie was silent for a moment.

“Sorry.” Claire apologised once more.

“Or mebbe we dinna bother with the pharmacist.”

“But a honeymoon with no sex? Is that what you really want?”

Jamie put his hands on Claire’s cheeks and stared intently at her face, searching for a glimmer of understanding.

“Nah, I think there’ll be plenty of sex. That isna what I’m saying.”

“Then—“ Claire’s expression changed as she realised what he was asking her. “You mean—“

“Aye, Sassenach, let’s make a baby.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve only ever been surer about one thing in ma life, and that’s turning out pretty well, Mrs. Fraser. So what say ye? D’ye think it’s a good idea or are ye no’ ready? I willna be upset if ye want tae wait a while.”

Claire pulled Jamie’s head down to hers and kissed him firmly on the mouth. “Yes, James Fraser. Let’s make a baby.”


End file.
